Your Own Worst Enemy
by ldyjaydin
Summary: What if you could meet yourself 14 years in the future? Or the past? Would you like the person you were or the person you will become? Daryl is faced with this opportunity, which maybe a challenge. Weird Twilight Zone aspects. Story is DONE; will post a chapter a day.
1. Chapter 1

**Your Own Worst Enemy**

Hi Everyone! This new story is weird. Maybe even more weird than any of my previous stories. Definitely Twilight Zone. The premise is based on something I think about regularly, usually when I'm stuck in traffic. If I was given the chance to meet myself from either the future or the past, how would I react to myself? Would my past self be proud of what I've accomplished or would I be completely different from what she expected? On the flip side, would my future self be where I'm planning to be by then or will unforeseen circumstances have changed all those plans? What if Daryl Dixon was faced with this opportunity?

So part of this story could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Green-Eyed Monster", although not the first chapter. I feel like it can stand alone if you just know a couple things first. To prevent spoilers, anyone who wants to go read (or re-read) that other story, I'll wait.

…

Okay, welcome back! For those of you not interested in reading that, here are the spoilers. Daryl and Carol got together in that story (obviously, it's one of mine and I only write Caryl stories). At the end, Carol gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. They lived happily ever after battling walkers with their group in a huge mansion in Alabama. Now onto this story!

I do not own anything to do with The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 1 – At the Quarry**

It was hot. Like melting your tires hot. Like frying an egg on the hood of your car hot. There had been one of those sudden rains storms earlier that Georgia was famous for. It came out of nowhere and just poured buckets out of the sky, soaking everything. Then it was completely gone within ten minutes. The sky was bright and the sun shining like nothing had ever happened. Unfortunately, the little downpour had raised the humidity mercilessly. The air felt thick and it made sweat stick uselessly to every person at the Quarry camp.

Daryl Dixon sat at the very edge of the camp, finishing off a new bolt for his crossbow. Now he had a good number of them to take on his hunting trip with Merle this afternoon. He rubbed a practically non-existent smudge on the frame, taking care that his prized weapon was in perfect condition. He couldn't help but taking pride in it. It was so much more than any simple knife or gun. It was the ideal weapon for this sort of world.

A young boy ran past him, disturbing his thoughts. The kid has narrowly missed tripping over him but he didn't seem to notice. He looked happy as he ran for the trail down to the water. Daryl knew the boy's name was Carl because his mother was constantly yelling it all over camp. It was hard to block out the shrill, shrieking voice of Lori Grimes.

He wasn't quite sure what was going on with the family dynamics surrounding the kid. He and his mom had been brought into camp by that cop, Shane. The guy was an asshole, constantly looking down on him and his brother like they were dirt. He didn't know if Shane was Carl's father but he certainly acted like it, despite the fact that Lori wore her wedding ring on a chain around her neck and Shane didn't wear one at all. He definitely knew that Shane was fucking her. Not that he cared much. It had just been an awkward moment for him to come upon them screwing like horny rabbits in the woods. He'd had to beat a hasty retreat.

Daryl stood up and instantly collided with someone coming around the tree. He turned his narrowed eyes down on the little blond girl. She had basically bounced off his solid body and stumbled back a few steps. He hadn't been displaced an inch. She stared up at him with an expression of fear on her face. Part of him wanted to tell her off for not watching where she was going but another part of him wanted to comfort her, tell her he wouldn't hurt her. Instead, he didn't say anything at all, just watched her.

He wasn't really sure what her name was. She was so quiet, even when she was playing with the loud-mouthed Carl and those Latino kids. It wasn't difficult to know why either. She was being abused, just like he'd been as a child. He knew her father's name because the bastard swaggered around the camp like he owned the place. Ed was a useless sack of shit, contributing nothing to the camp. His wife catered to his every want and need and then he'd beat her for the effort. Even Daryl had caught him falling asleep on watch duty twice. Dale had finally gotten fed up enough and kicked Ed out of the rotation. The man reminded Daryl of his father and it made him want to kick his ass.

"Sophia, come on!" Carl called out from down the trail, looking annoyed at the hold-up.

Sophia regarded him for a moment longer. Then her eyes fell to the ground and she mumbled "Sorry, Mr. Dixon." She inched around, giving him a wide berth before taking off after Carl down the trail. He wasn't sure how she knew his name but people around this camp were nosy like that.

Daryl swung the crossbow over his shoulders, making a noise of discontentment. He wasn't used to children, didn't know how to act around them. Not that it was so much better with adults. Lucky for him, most of them stayed away from him. He walked deeper into the woods, skirting the area where the rows of tents stood.

A noise caught his attention and he looked back with a frown. Like an evil spirit called forth by just the mere thought of him, Ed emerged between the tents. Daryl knew there was nobody else around this part of the camp during this part of the day so Ed expected to be alone. Moving quickly to the left, Daryl positioned himself behind a broad tree trunk so as not to be seen.

Trailing behind him was his wife. She moved hesitantly, obviously concerned about where her husband was leading her. There was fear on her face and she looked just like her daughter had a few minutes earlier when she's crashed into him. Unfortunately for her, it was unlikely she was going to get away unscathed like Sophia had.

Her name was Carol, Daryl knew that. Not because she had told him because she'd never actually spoken to him. It was because anytime Ed wanted anything, he'd bellow her name across camp. Didn't matter what she was doing, she had to come rushing to his side like an obedient dog to appease him. She was a weak woman but Daryl couldn't help but take some amount of pity on her. She reminded him of his own mother, who'd dealt with a man like Ed by deadening herself with booze. Right up until she set the house on fire and burned away to nothing.

Ed's hand went to her back and shoved her roughly in front of him. Carol gasped at the unexpected push, almost falling but catching herself in time. She whirled around to face him, her eyes wide with fear. They were so blue, like the sky over the ocean. So very blue. And beautiful, those eyes. Daryl found himself mesmerized by them, unable to blink or look away. He'd never noticed her eyes before, never really looked at her. She'd always just been in the background before.

She blinked and looked away, most likely not wanting Ed to see her as defiant. The spell was broken for Daryl. He felt like a creep, spying on them like this. Just walk away, he told himself. Yet, his boots stayed rooted to the same spot behind the tree, his eyes focused on the scene in front of him.

"You think you can talk to me like that?" Ed said to her, his voice dangerous.

Carol's eyes were darting all around now, everywhere but on her husband. "No," she said in a meek voice. "Lori wanted me to finish with the kids' lessons. I swear I was going to get your lunch ready right after that."

"You think that whiny bitch takes precedence over me?" he said as he took a step closer to her.

"Of course not! I promise it won't ever happen again," she pleaded with him.

"Damn right it won't," Ed muttered, looking like he was going to let her off the hook. He turned as if he was going to walk away and Carol was holding her breath, looking like she was hoping this would be the end of the confrontation.

Daryl almost bolted over there when Ed spun back and backhanded her across the face. Carol's head whipped around, a tiny strangled cry coming from her. Daryl's fingers dug into the bark of the tree, wanting to smash Ed's face in for touching a woman like that. He held back though, warring with himself to not get involved.

Ed wrapped his fingers around her arm and there was no way that his tight grip wouldn't cause bruises. He jerked Carol's body up so that his face was directly in hers.

"You belong to me!" he screamed at her, little bits of spittle spraying out of his fat lips. She just closed her eyes, like she was trying to block him out so he shook her. Her head whipped back on her neck painfully. "And don't you even think about leaving me, you bitch. If you dare take Sophia and try to run, I will hunt you down like the animal you are. I will skin you alive and then it'll just be me and my little Sophia."

Carol's eyes snapped open at those words. Even Daryl's eyes widened with how he spoke them. It was disturbing, the implications of what he planned for Sophia. There was an evil smirk on Ed's face as he relished the combination of fear and hate in Carol's eyes. Daryl took a step away from the tree, his hands clenched in fists. His father had been a miserable, abusive son of a bitch but to think of the girl being abused like that by this sick fuck was too much for Daryl to ignore.

Before he'd taken two steps, Ed balled his fist and smashed it into Carol's mid-section. Daryl couldn't help but wince as Carol collapsed on her knees, clutching her abdomen. The wind had been knocked out of her and she was gasping for air. Ed leaned down and roughly grabbed her by the chin to force her to look at him.

"Don't even think about telling your new little girlfriends about this either. 'Cause it won't be them suffering for it later. You hear me?" She nodded slightly. He sneered at her before pulling his hand back. "Jesus, you are such an ugly cow Carol. You're lucky to have me." He turned his back on her.

Daryl was moving fast across the forests. Ed was going to get his ass kicked. It was high time he experienced some of the same misery he dealt out. Daryl naturally moved quietly and neither Ed nor Carol knew he was coming. He counted on that in order to surprise Ed with the first punch. That asshole was going down.

A large hand suddenly pressed against his chest from behind, halting his forward progression. He tried pushing against it, his rage overtaking his senses. Another beefy arm came around, reinforcing the first one. He growled at the intrusion into his personal space and started fighting it.

"Calm down, baby brother," said a familiar voice into his ear. He relaxed a little. It was only Merle.

"Get the hell offa me," Daryl growled, still not liking the contact.

Merle's arms stayed right where they were. "You ain't thinkin' bout doing' somethin' stupid, like insertin' yerself into their family issues, right?"

Daryl glanced up and saw that Ed had disappeared. Carol was pushing herself off the ground and walking away on wobbly legs. She was somewhat hunched from the blow to the stomach. The couple never realized they'd had an audience. Daryl didn't answer and Merle's arms clamped down harder on him.

"Ya can't be getting all involved with these people. They ain't nothin' to us but targets. Ya just gotta keep yer head down another few days and then we'll be outta here. You got that?"

"Fine!" Daryl huffed and Merle let him go. He readjusted his crossbow, pissed off at Merle for stopping him. He was ready for a fight but Merle just started heading into the woods away from the camp. Daryl spat into the grass and stomped after him.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all so much for the warm welcome back! We are going to be switching gears a little this chapter. It takes place in the same location as "The Green-Eyed Monster". I'm not going to go into a whole info-dump on what's happened since the events of that story. It's going to come in bits and pieces through this story. Also, please note, I may have tweaked things a little bit to encompass some of the events that happened in the second half of the third season, since that story had been written during the hiatus. This chapter was written BEFORE season 4 started so this story will have nothing that reflects season 4.

Smut warning! There is some smut in this chapter, just to keep your attention focused.

**Chapter 2 – Alabama, 14 years later**

It was pitch black outside. As dawn neared, the night was at its most dark. At least the oppressive summer heat was finally relenting as autumn descended upon them. The forest surrounding the compound was eerily silent. The night creatures must have decided it was close enough to the morning to retire but the birds had not started their songs dedicated to the morning yet.

Daryl sat on the second floor balcony, overlooking the front of the mansion. He had a clear view of the dirt road leading in over the wall they had built around the place when they'd first moved in. The old night vision goggles sat on the floor next to him. They were starting to fail after all these years and attempts to find new ones on long-distance runs had been unsuccessful. It didn't matter to most of them though. Their night vision had gotten superior without all the light pollution in the sky. Besides, it had been a long time since any excitement had happened on watch duty. It had been over four year since they had the last herd move through and now they only got the occasional walker straggling by.

It was strange, the effect time seemed to have on walkers. The bastards could go for years on willpower alone. Many of them would herd together, just tromping along for mile after mile. Others, especially the ones trapped in buildings or enclosed spaces, would go into a dormant phase. They'd slump down and wait forever for a juicy meal to come along and wake them from their slumber. However, the effects of rotting and microscopic bacteria did eventually take their toll after half a decade or so. Once the brainstem was completely gone or the flesh holding the body together was rotted away, they would crumble into a simple pile of bones.

Daryl fiddled with his crossbow. It was relatively new, the last one having given out after years of reliable action. He was just getting used to the differences with this one, it being smaller but packing a powerful punch. Carefully, he adjusted the strap again, still not thinking it was perfect yet but it was getting there.

A sharp whistle from down below caught his attention. "Stop making love to your crossbow and keep an eye out for our car," Maggie admonished him the edge of the wall. Watch duty was done in teams, with one person up on the balcony and the other patrolling around the perimeter. They'd often switch halfway through the shift to prevent the person on the balcony from falling asleep.

Daryl chuckled. "Keep yer panties on. Yer husband and the others ain't due back until this afternoon," he told her. He held the crossbow up and caressed it lovingly, eliciting a snort from Maggie.

"I sure hope you hold your wife like that sometimes," Maggie said.

"Trust me. Carol ain't got no complaints," Daryl threw back at her.

Maggie burst out laughing. "Ya know what, Dixon? I am sure glad you finally grew a sense of humor. I remember a time when you'd have shot my ass with an arrow for this conversation."

"Yeah? Who says I still won't?" Daryl told her as he positioned the crossbow towards her. She couldn't see from the ground that it was unloaded.

The door behind him creaked a little as it opened out onto the balcony.

"Um, do you want me to leave you and your…equipment alone?" asked a deep voice.

Daryl whipped the unloaded crossbow around but then put it down as Carl handed him a steaming mug of coffee. Daryl took it gratefully as Carl settled into the chair next to him. He hung his long legs over the railing and waved at Maggie. She waved back and then continued on her patrol.

"Yer early," Daryl grunted. He still had a hard time reconciliating the extremely tall man in his mid-twenties with the little brat he'd first met all those years ago. Carl Grimes had grown up. And grown and grown until he even towered over his father. Daryl thought the final height measurement was about 6'5".

Carl rubbed his face wearily. "Lindsey's been crying for the last two hours. Beth told me to go back to sleep but it's really hard to do that with a baby freaking out in the next room. How does a two-month-old make so much noise?" His daughter Lindsey was named for Lori. Even after all these years, Carl continued to carry the pain of having to put his mother down just minutes after helping to pull his little sister out of her. Beth had wanted to name the baby Lori but Carl just couldn't deal with it. Lindsey had been the compromise.

Daryl smirked. "Try doin' it in stereo."

Carl groaned. "I remember that. Worst part with your kids was when one cried, they'd wake the other one up and then that baby would start crying too."

"Least you don't have to deal with all the bitchin' about it like we did," Daryl muttered. He was referring to the new addition they'd built about three years earlier. It had been heavily insulated to stop noise penetration in or out. Then all the families with babies were regulated down there. It was both for safety in not attracting attention and for the comfort of everyone else in the house.

Carl nodded then looked at him. "I gotta tell you, Amelia is like crazy good with that bow and arrow of hers. Yesterday when we went out hunting with the kids, I saw her take down a rabbit, a squirrel and a crow in the span of about sixty seconds. The crow was flying through the air, like ten feet up! She was just like that girl from _The Hunger Games_," Carl said in an impressed voice.

"What the fuck's _The_ _Hunger Games_?" Daryl questioned, although it was hard not feel a swell of pride for his daughter.

"A book series that came out just before the world went to hell. I read the first book but never got the chance to read the other two. After seeing that, I'm going to find her those books for her birthday. Seems like a good gift for a twelve-year-old with mad bow and arrow skills," Carl stated. Then he said, "Man, you look like crap. Why don't you turn in early, old man?"

Daryl stood up and smacked Carl across the head. "Fuck you," he growled and then headed inside.

By the time he got to his bedroom on the third floor, the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. He entered the room silently and engaged the lock on the door. Carol was snuggled in the blankets, her back turned towards him and one arm above the covers. Her oversized sleep shirt had shifted in her sleep, pulled down to expose one creamy shoulder.

Daryl licked his lips and slipped out of his pants and vest, only wearing a light T-shirt. He climbed into his bed beside her and gently kissed the soft skin on that shoulder. It didn't matter how many years went by. He couldn't get enough of her.

Carol moaned as his teeth scraped along her shoulder towards her neck. She shifted, giving him better access. He sucked and licked that sensitive spot just under her ear. His arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her body into his.

"This definitely isn't the worst way to wake up in the morning." She grinned and wiggled against his obvious arousal pressed against her. "Not to burst your bubble but you know they're going to be up any minute."

Daryl glanced at the window. "We've got at least twenty minutes. Besides, I locked the door." His hand snaked up the sleep shirt and he cupped her breast, kneading it as his lips moved on to her ear. He blew warm breath on her.

She arched into him. Her voice was an octave higher than normal. "You know Hunter can pick that lock, right? We probably should have named him Little Merle." Her hand reached behind her and grabbed his ass.

"Shut up," Daryl said but there was a grin on his mouth. In one fluid motion, he pulled her over to her back and was on top of her. He kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She kissed him back, sucking his bottom lip through her teeth. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pressing her center against his hardness. He shifted his hips, eliciting a moan from her despite two layers of cloth separating them. With a certain amount of urgency, he pulled her shirt up, his mouth on one peek and his hand on the other. She was arching under him again and making little whimpering sounds.

Suddenly they both froze when they heard light footsteps coming down the hall. The door knob rattled ever so slightly as someone tried turning it. Then there was the distinct sound of the lock being disengaged.

Carol reached up to cover herself again but Daryl stopped her, holding her arm down. He turned his head towards the door.

"Hunter, if you dare open that door, your ass is grounded for a month," he threatened. The room was absolutely silent. Then they both heard the lock click back in place. "Good boy. Now go downstairs and help with breakfast." Retreating footsteps down the stairs told them the coast was clear again.

A giggle escaped from Carol as Daryl laid his head down against her stomach in relief. "That was close," she whispered.

Knowing their time was limited as the sun got brighter in the window, Daryl got down to business. He ripped her panties down her legs and pulled off his own boxer briefs. His fingernails ran up the inside of her thighs, making her shiver with anticipation. She whimpered out his name, spreading her legs further for him. He kissed her full on the mouth as he entered her. He craved the feeling of being inside her, wrapped in her warmth and softness. Never in a million years would he get tired of her.

She shifted underneath him, encompassing as much of his length within as she could take. Nuzzling in her neck, he began moving. Her hips matched his in rhythm. Their breathing picked up, turning into panting in tandem. He knew she was getting close as her knees drew up further, tilting her hip further into him.

"Daryl," she whispered, her voice broken as she neared her release.

Her voice in his ear drove him on faster and harder. He could feel her inner muscles clenching around him as she came, biting her lip in an effort to control her cries of ecstasy. It sent him careening over the edge of his own orgasm, his body tensing and a growl escaping his lips.

As they both came down off their highs, he kissed her gently on her lips before pulling out of her. For just a minute, he held her in his arms, savoring the smell of her all around him. He could have fallen asleep; it was his right after being on watch duty half the night. Carol got up and dressed so he decided that he was too wired to sleep just yet. Plus, he was hungry.

Taking his hand, they headed downstairs to the kitchen. The place was already bursting with activity. Maggie, who'd just come off patrol, was making up breakfast for herself and a plate for her sister, who was still on baby duty. Amelia, Hunter, and Judith were all sitting at the table eating. Little Joe, Maggie and Glenn's eight-year-old son named for Maggie's mother, flew through the doorway and claimed the last seat at the table. Shannon had her toddler son Brian in a high chair and was feeding him mashed up apples while Alex warmed up a bottle. Sasha and Tyreese were just headed out the back door to the farming area.

Alex and his father Max had been picked up soon after their run into Alabama and Alex acted as their doctor since they'd lost Herschel. He'd just graduated from medical school when the undead rose up. However, what he lacked in experience, he made up for with dedication and meticulous study of piles of books he'd stolen from the university's library. Daryl liked the man, credited him with the safe birth of his twins when there'd been some complications. Max helped also with his experience as a paramedic.

Shannon, on the other hand, was not his favorite person. Despite the fact that he was the one who'd saved her from certain death in a walker-ridden pharmacy, she hadn't been the nicest person in the beginning. In fact, she had tried to seduce him away from Carol. He still held some resentment against her because of that, even though Carol had long forgiven her. To him, she would always be that jealous green-eyed monster.

"Mornin' daddy," Amelia said sweetly, getting up from the table and grabbing her bow. Hunter refused to meet his eyes, his face a blush. Served the kid right for trying to break into their bedroom. It wasn't the first time he'd done that before either. Daryl was pretty sure he'd investigated every locked door on the entire compound. Little Merle indeed.

He plunked his body down at the chair vacated by his daughter. Carol put a plate of fresh eggs in front of him. He decided that today he was going to hunt down one of those turkeys that had been evading him in the forest. They all deserved a fresh turkey dinner tonight. He sipped the coffee Carol handed him and mused on how good his life had become.


	3. Chapter 3

Merry Christmas everyone! So this chapter is going back into the past. I know it is going to be a little confusing as we jump back and forth through time but it is all going to come together and it will be so satisfying then.

Huge thanks to my beta readers! I know we all wavered some but I never would have gotten this story finished without you. I will always appreciate the help from HGRHfan35, Haitus80, and mama2elves. You girls are the best! And if you aren't reading Haitus80's "Black Moon Blues", definitely check it out.

**Chapter 3 – Quarry**

Daryl followed behind Merle deeper into the forest. He could still feel the adrenalin coursing through his system from wanting to kick Ed's ass but his head was clearing the further away from the camp he got. By the time Merle acknowledged his presence again, spinning around and leaning nonchalantly against a tree, Daryl had himself under complete control. His breathing and heart rate were back to normal.

He paused, looking back the way they'd come. Daryl wasn't quite sure why he'd acted like that. Sure, Ed definitely needed to be put in his place but it was rare that Daryl would start a fight. Usually he just finished them when Merle started a brawl. It was much more like him to turn away when it didn't directly involve him or his brother. Yet, with this, there was definitely something about how Ed talked about his daughter that struck a cord inside him. And those eyes of hers. It was like they cast a spell over him. He shook his head, dispelling the memory of them.

"You ready to get down ta business or are ya still daydreamin' about that little party you was gonna crash back there?" Merle asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Daryl didn't answer, just gave his brother a look of disgust. Merle chuckled. "Business it is then. So tomorrow-"

Suddenly, Daryl whipped out his hunting knife and threw it at Merle. Well, not exactly at Merle but at the squirrel running up the tree a few feet adjacent to where Merle was leaning. The big man dove out of the way, landing in a pile of brown, decaying leaves. He was sputtering, looking between Daryl and the squirrel, which was now impaled to the tree trunk. It had been a killing blow.

"What- why'd ya- What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted as he climbed back to his feet. His face was angry as he brushed the crumbling leave pieces off his clothes.

It was difficult to keep the grin off his face as Daryl retrieved the squirrel, stringing it up around his belt. Rarely could he get a rise like that out of Merle. Besides, he deserved it for being such an asshole back at the camp. "Gotta catch some prey or it's gonna look suspicious with us comin' back from a huntin' trip empty-handed."

Merle chewed his lip unhappily but finally relented. "Yeah, those bastards back at camp would probably think we'd just come out here to get fucked up if we didn't catch nothin'," he agreed. Then added, his finger in Daryl's face, "Just don't you pull any of that shit again with that god damned knife."

"Fine, I'll just use the crossbow," Daryl commented as he swung the weapon off his back and proceeded to load it.

Merle grunted. "Whatever. Let's keep walkin' because we got plannin' ta do." He strolled off, not waiting for Daryl to catch up before he started talking again. "Tomorrow I'm gonna go with those assholes back into Atlanta. I'll get whatever stuff I can find for when we go back out on the road. Also gonna scope out what kind of firepower their packin'. As for you, yer gonna stay here and find out where all the supplies are bein' kept. I want guns, food, medicine, whatever else we can rip-off from these people. Yer an observant one, don't think I don't know that about you," Merle told Daryl, tapping the side of his head with his finger. Daryl flinched away from him. Merle laughed then turned serious. "You get in that RV. I know that's where they're keepin' all the good stuff. Don't care what excuse ya come up with, just get inside that RV."

"Fine," Daryl grumbled, looking off into the woods.

"I should be back that night. We ain't gonna stay in that dead city overnight if we can help it. Even those idiots ain't that stupid. Then while they're all playin' footsie around the campfire, we can rob those suckers blind. I'll deal with the stuff around camp but I need your sneaky ass ta creep back into the RV and clean that out. Ya might have to take down the old man though," Merle mentioned off-handedly, like he was asking Daryl to take out the trash or some other mundane chore like that.

Daryl frowned. "I ain't killing Dale," he said firmly. Dale was one of the few at the camp that didn't seem to look down on Daryl. He was kind and welcoming to him and his brother. It gave Daryl the feeling of acceptance that he found he liked.

"I didn't say kill him. Just incapacitate him," Merle offered.

"No! I ain't gonna hurt him," Daryl stated insolently.

Merle held up his hands. "No problem. I'll take down the old man then."

"We ain't takin' down nobody!" Daryl growled adamantly.

"Nobody? Not even that fucking cop or the fat nigger? What if they get in ma way?" Merle questioned him incredulously.

"Merle," Daryl said between gritted teeth. "We do this thing quiet or we ain't doin' it at all. I'll just leave."

Merle scrunched up his face. "Shit! Did you just suddenly grow a conscious or somethin'?"

Daryl shook his head. "That's it. I'm out." He turned and started back towards camp.

Grabbing his arm to stop him, Merle growled out, "God damn it! Fine! This'll be a stealth operation with no casualties. Ya happy?"

Even though he didn't really look happy, Daryl nodded. They walked for a while in silence, each unhappy in their own thoughts. Merle didn't like that Daryl wasn't acting like his other drug-addled cronies who listened to his every word like gospel.

Daryl was regretting ever agreeing to this heist with Merle. Never before had he helped his brother with criminal activity but when they'd run into the group at the quarry, it hadn't seemed like a bad idea. There was no threat of prosecution since the world went to hell. That was before he's gotten to know the people. While most of them were pretentious pricks that looked down on him and Merle, they were all just trying to survive without getting eaten by the geeks.

After a few minutes of cooling silence, Merle started talking again. "We'll hit the tents first, while they're all bullshiting around the fire. Load it in the back of yer truck. Since you've got yer panties all twisted about anybody gettin' a boo-boo, we'll wait for them all ta go ta sleep for the RV. I can lure away whoever's takin' watch up on top while you slip in ta get the goods. You got a tarp or somethin' we can hide everythin' under until we're ready to pull outta there?"

Only silence answered him. He stopped suddenly, realizing that Daryl wasn't walking just behind him. In fact, he was several feet back, his crossbow raised and aimed through the trees.

"You even listenin' ta me?" Merle asked with outrage at his brother's lack of attention.

"Shhh," Daryl whispered, pissing Merle off more. Daryl was completely focused in front of him and Merle looked over through the branches, concerned it might have been a walker.

It was a deer, a buck. The beast was large with probably a four- or five-point rack. He was nibbling on some green shoots coming up out the ground. He didn't seem aware at all that danger was very close to him.

Daryl shifted his weight slightly, getting into the best position for the kill. He drew in a breath and held it in his lungs. Then his finger pressed into the trigger.

Without warning, Merle slammed his fist into Daryl's arm. The bolt flew wide over the deer's back. This alerted him to their presence and he was gone, bolting through the foliage out of sight.

"What the fuck, Merle?" Daryl screamed at him. "I had 'em! Why would you do that?"

"'Cause I ain't helpin' you carry that bloody carcass back to that camp. 'Sides, not like we'll be able to take it with us once we ditch that place anyway. We'll get plenty of venison when we find our own hideout," Merle assured him.

"I weren't gonna take it with us. I was gonna leave it so that at least the kids'll have some meat after we take all their other food. Not like any of the others are so great at huntin'," Daryl muttered as he started to retrieve his ineffective bolt.

"Yer still thinkin' about those fucking people!" Merle stated in astonishment as he followed Daryl. "If you didn't bring them meat to fill their bellies, they'd drop you like the piece of shit they think you are. Only reason they tolerate me is so you keep huntin' for them." He paused then added, "And they think I'm bat-shit crazy." He grinned and Daryl felt like that was a true statement for a moment. Then Merle looked serious again. "They don't give a shit about you. They ain't your people. I'm the only one you got so stop all this carin' and crap."

Daryl didn't answer, just pulled away from him to retrieve his bolt buried partly in the dirt. He wanted to smack his brother and that urge got worse when his brother ran ahead, exclaiming about something in the woods. Daryl rolled his eyes as he trailed after him. That was, until he saw what Merle was so excited about.

There was a town in front of them.

Daryl blinked then spun around to survey the forest they'd just been traveling through. Yep, it was the same forest he'd been hunting in for almost two weeks. And there had not been a town in the middle of it before. Daryl turned back towards the mysterious town, noting the road emerging out of the forest floor and running down between two rows of buildings that looked like shops. He could see the road curving at the far end but he couldn't see where it continued from there. Several streets turned off from the main one, leading to other stores and then residences. Daryl narrowed his eyes and frowned. This was all wrong.

Of course, Merle was already halfway down the main street. He had his pistol out and was peeking into windows of the shops as he went from building to building. "This is great! This whole place is deserted and filled to the brim with good shit. I don't see one walker!" he cried merrily.

"Shut up, Merle! There could be a herd of walkers around any of these corners just ready to bite yur ass," Daryl whispered back fiercely. He had his crossbow rearmed, up and ready for the slightest movement.

Merle waved his hand at him dismissively then went into one of the shops, a little café. Daryl groaned and pivoted around to go back to the forest. He wasn't so sure as his brother about venturing into this baffling town so aggressively. That was when his system was shocked a second time in a matter of minutes.

The forest was gone.

He just stared at where the forest used to be. His mouth hung open and he was frozen in place. Instead of the trees he'd just come out of, the town continued on. There were some taller buildings down a little further, maybe offices or apartments. More streets turned off to other parts of town. Daryl felt like he was going to start hyperventilating.

He heard a whistle behind him but didn't bother moving because he knew it was Merle. "Damn, that is some fucked up shit," Merle stated confidently as he also looked down the street where their forest used to be. "I'd think I was havin' a bad trip but I can tell from yer pretty face that you see it too."

Daryl swallowed heavily. "What'd we do now?" he asked his older brother, reverting back to the childish way of following Merle's lead.

Merle chuckled. "We eat." Daryl looked at him with surprise. "Come on. That café's got tons of food. Fresh as the day it was made, like the people all just left this mornin'. We ain't gotten food like that in a month. Let's indulge," Merle said with a smile.

Daryl walked slowly behind him. The place was like a ghost town. There didn't seem to be any walkers. Nothing had been looted or destroyed. Yet, it still felt like the place was dead. It gave Daryl a shiver up his spine and he wasn't sure he was going to have an appetite for even the best food.

_There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone._


	4. Chapter 4

What the heck happened to for the last 24 hours? It was really frustrating! Please make sure you've read chapter 3 before moving on to this chapter.

Back to the future! This was supposed to be an action-packed chapter but writing got a little away from my plans. It became kind of information heavy. Hopefully it is still entertaining!

**Chapter 4 – Alabama, 14 years later**

"They're back!" Carl yelled out the door across the back of the compound.

The large area behind the mansion was divided into two sections, the farm and the training area. They had a whole coop full of chickens that were forever laying eggs for them. There was also a dairy cow, named Bessie by the children. They'd traded a car for her a number of years back when there was concern about the young ones not getting enough calcium. Bessie was a decent milk producer but she had a wicked attitude about her. She behaved herself around certain people, including Carol, Sasha and Beth but there were a few she despised and would try to kick at any given opportunity. Glenn was her number one target, for reasons unknown. He tried charming her over in the beginning but that earned him a broken foot when she stomped on it. Now he avoided her like the plague and joked about cravings for veal chops whenever she was brought up in conversation.

There were also several fruits and vegetables being grown. The tomato plants had overtaken much of the back of the property. There were still the peach trees Daryl had snagged on the run to the hardware store all those years ago. They'd also added a few apple trees as well. A few other fields had potatoes, carrots and spinach. Just this past summer, they attempted to grow some corn plants. They only got four ears of corn out of it but it was a good start.

The other side was the training area. There were a variety of targets situated against the far wall, including some swinging ones. Every single person participated in training, even the children starting as young as four years old. They learned about guns, knives, slingshots, bows and arrows and even spears. Guns were rarely used for practice though. Over the past decade, bullets had become more and more scarce. Now the precious little bits of metal and gun powder were coveted, only ever used for serious protection. Even though he still hunted almost daily, Daryl had taken over the running of the training area.

At Carl's announcement, everyone automatically dropped what they were doing and moved towards the front of the house. It was always exciting to find out what happened during a trading expedition and what the team brought back for everyone. They had established trading agreements with three other settlements that were in a one-hundred mile radius from them. Now that the number of walkers had vastly decreased and people were staking out defined territories, civilization was starting to re-emerge.

As everyone else took off, Daryl watched as his daughter readied her bow. This was her traditional ending to any training session and she tried hard not to miss it. Daryl stood back and watched, counting slowly in his head.

1…2…3…4…5…

Amelia pulled the first arrow out of the quiver and in a blink it was buried in the head of a dummy walker. She reached back and instantly got another arrow notched. It flew out to the red center of a straw target close to the ground. A split second later, another arrow cracked through the swinging wooden target fixed to the top of the wall, knocking it right off the chain. Then she turned to Daryl, quietly waiting for her time.

"Eight seconds," he reported. "Ya shaved off two seconds from last time I timed ya. Good job," he said, pride evident in his voice. Amelia smiled brightly and it made her eyes shine. Those blue eyes were so much like her mother's it made his heart ache.

Putting his arm around her small shoulders, he guided her out of the empty backyard and towards the front of the house. He glanced back at the broken target, knowing it would need fixing but he couldn't help smiling at what his kid had done. They joined the crowd surrounding the car.

The smile fell from Daryl's face the moment he saw Rick get out of the driver's seat. Something was wrong. The two men locked eyes, communicating silently. Glenn and Michonne got out of the car then, grim looks on both their faces. Questions started coming from all around them.

"What news from Owens Cross Roads?"

"What's all this stuff all over the car?"

"How come all the supplies we loaded in here are still here? Did the trade not go through?"

Rick held up his hand to silence all the people. "I need everyone to gather in the library now. We have a situation that needs to be discussed." With that, he motioned everyone inside. Daryl watched Judith slip her hand into her father's. That elicited a small smile from the troubled man. Judith was a quiet girl of thirteen, which some speculated was from the trauma of her birth, even though there was no way she would remember that. All talk about her parentage had stopped years ago. She looked almost exactly like Lori, Rick had accepted her fully as his own and that was all that mattered.

They all crowded into the library, the adults standing or sitting on the plush furniture while the kids sprawling out across the floor. Before the addition had been built, there had been arguments to convert the library into more living space. However, nobody really wanted to destroy the charm of the room. With rows and rows of all kinds of books imaginable set in shelves that climbed up near to the top of the vaulted ceilings along with the antique furniture and classic dark wood paneling, it was like a tiny corner of a world forgotten in their house. The compromise was that an addition was built for living quarters while the library was used for all meetings and school work.

"What the hell happened?" Maggie demanded, her arm around a very unhappy looking Glenn.

Rick took a deep breath. "Owens Cross Roads was attacked."

There was a collected sound of shock as everyone registered what Rick said. Daryl's eyes darted over to Michonne's face, the physical evidence of the last attack on their own compound etched into her flesh. A deep scar ran from the middle of her forehead, through her ruined left eye and halted in the center of her cheek. She refused to wear an eye patch, just had Alex sew the useless eye closed. The loss of the eye did not diminish her deadliness at combat.

He glanced over at Max, Alex's father who had initially invited them to share this abandoned mansion so many years ago. Max leaned heavily on his cane now, his mangled left leg barely able to support any weight. The man was stubborn though, refusing to take a seat. Back in the days of hospitals and modern medicine, the injuries he'd suffered in that attack could have been remedied with surgery and rehab. His knowledge along with his son's was enough to save his life though. Daryl turned his attention back to the conversation at hand, knowing now that not the time to dwell on the memories of that awful night.

"The place was crawling with walkers, fresh ones. People we knew from trading," Glenn spoke up, a shudder in his voice.

"We had to plow through a group of them just to get out of there. That was what was all over the car," Rick said, answering young Joe's question. He looked up at Rick with frightened eyes until his mother Maggie pulled him into her lap. That seemed to reassure the boy.

"How do you know the place was attacked? It's been months since our last trading expedition there. Maybe they had a disease breakout," Tyreese offered up from the corner where he was leaning.

Rick shook his head but Michonne actually spoke up to answer his question. "We ran into survivors on the way back." She fell silent so Rick resumed explaining.

"They told us that they were invaded in the night. Said they were like savages, had like black and white paint all over their faces. There were no guns, they used spears and bows and arrows."

"And fire," Michonne said quietly.

"Yes, fire too. Many of their arrows were burning. Our friend Josh said they used all the bullets they had left. Killed about thirty of them but he swears there were probably close to two hundred of them. They swarmed in, killing anyone standing in their way, except for the youngest children. He saw them gathering them up, probably to take them. The only reason he and the other four lived was because they ran. Jumped in a car and drove like mad. The savages did not have any vehicles, no way to pursue them," Rick relayed to the silent group.

After a moment to let all this information sink in, Carol piped up in a soft voice without a hint of accusation. "Why didn't you bring the survivors back here?" Daryl glanced over at her sitting on the sofa. He could help cracking a half smile at her question. It was so like her to be concerned for others, even people she'd never met before.

Shifting uncomfortably, Rick looked down at the floor. "We offered to bring them back with us but they refused. They're going up to another colony just over the border of Tennessee." He paused, clearing his throat and then looking at the members of his extended family before him. "He thinks we're going to be the next target."

The room erupted into chaos with that statement. Maggie and Sasha were up out of their seats and Tyreese had stepped out of his corner. Even Daryl was leaning forward in earnestness. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once, throwing questions and calls for validity at Rick. A few of the younger children started crying, frightened by all the commotion. Beth left the room with a screaming Lindsay in her arms, making Carl promise to fill her in on every word discussed.

"Stop!" Rick shouted. That got everyone's attention because it wasn't often that Rick raised his voice. "We've got to figure this out rationally, people," he said in a more normal voice but there was still exasperation evident at the edges. Maggie and Sasha plopped back down into their seats but Sasha raised her hand. Rick nodded at her.

"What makes Josh think we're next?" she asked.

"Apparently, two other compounds he knows of have been attacked. The pattern seems to be moving eastward and that puts us directly in the path of it." Rick answered. Maggie raised her hand but blurted out her question before Rick acknowledged her. "Did they come in the night or during the day?"

"During the day." Murmurs went around the room, comments on the brazenness of a daytime attack.

Shannon spoke up from the back of the room. "Maybe we should leave, head west or even follow them up to Tennessee."

A few people glared at her. Daryl verbalized their thoughts in a gruff voice. "We ain't leavin'. This place is ours." He looked back at Rick.

The man looked tired. He was pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes like he had a headache. He breathed out a heavy sigh before talking again. "I think we need to have every contingency plan in place. We have no idea when, or even if, these savages are coming after us. There is the possibility that they have numbers far greater than ours. Hell, Owens Cross Roads had at least double our numbers and they were massacred. However, they didn't have a wall protecting them like we do." He paused, seeming to look at each of them individually before continuing. "This is our home. We've built a life here and thrived. But this place is not worth our lives. It's not worth the lives of our children. We are going to prepare to fight, to try to drive these savages away from us. But we're also going to prepare to flee. If it comes down to this place versus our lives, we run," he stated firmly. People nodded in agreement around him.

Daryl's eyes swept over the room. There was a time in his life when he wouldn't have given a crap for any of them. It had been him and Merle. That was all he thought he'd needed but it had been a lonely existence. Now all these people had become his kin, his family. He'd kill for them, had already killed for them.

His eyes fell on those closest to his heart. Amelia was on floor by her brother, listening intently to Rick. She was a sweet girl with a large dose of his own stubbornness. Her constant practice and natural talent with the bow and arrow made her a true archer, even at eleven years old. His gaze shifted to Hunter, sitting against the sofa at Carol's feet, his arms wrapped around her legs. The kid had always been a momma's boy, gravitating towards Carol. Daryl didn't mind, couldn't blame him. The boy was sensitive and quiet, much like he'd always been. Yet, Hunter could pick any lock in the house and appear silently out of thin air. Some joked Hunter could have been a master criminal in another life.

Carol. His wife. It took a long time for him to admit his feelings for her. He'd lashed out, pushed her away and even tried leaving her back in the beginning. Yet, she'd always been there for him. It was like she had waited for him to realize his feelings for her, for it to penetrate through his thick skull. In some ways, she was stronger than he could ever be. As sappy as it sounded, she was truly the love of his life, the mother of his children. Rick was right; if it came to choosing between some property and the lives of his family, he'd burn the place to the ground himself.

Daryl spoke up then in a growl. "So whata we gonna do about these fuckers that wanna take us out?"


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone! It's about to get even weirder than before in this long chapter. Hope I don't lose to many of you because of the weird factor because we haven't got to the really good stuff yet. Bonus points for anyone who can tell me where I got the name for this mysterious town.

**Chapter 5 – Peaksville**

It was so quiet. For a town so utterly undisturbed, it seemed like there should have been people there. The lack of movement and even the sounds of birds made it far creepier. Daryl gritted his teeth with every loud noise Merle made in the café. Quiet wasn't part of his older brother's nature but at this moment, Daryl wished his brother would just shut the hell up.

After the dead began rising, he and Merle had hightailed it right out of the dead trap that Atlanta had become. Since then, he'd spent almost all his time in and around the Quarry camp. Despite the fact that he hadn't ventured back into civilization in almost a month, there was still something very wrong with this empty town. Where were the telltale signs of evacuation? Where were the walkers? He'd feel at least a little better if he could recognize those familiar components that should be in any town nowadays.

He observed the post office across the street. The letters in the front clearly spelled out the name of the town: Peaksville, Ohio. How the fuck could they have gone from Georgia to Ohio? Must have been wrong and Daryl dismissed it as such.

"Yer makin' me nervous standin' there like that. Sit yer ass down," Merle growled at him. He was sitting at a table by the window, a variety of food in front of him. Daryl was standing at the doorway keeping watch while he munched on a roast beef sandwich. He couldn't believe the meat was still good but the refrigerator was still working and it didn't have that slimy film old lunch meat got when it was going bad. Even though he was enjoying the taste of something he might never taste again, it didn't mean he was going to let his guard down in this strange place. He got the distinct impression that they were being watched.

Merle snorted at the lack of a response from Daryl and continued scarfing down the fresh food. It was Daryl's turn to snort at him when Merle bit into a huge chocolate cupcake, smearing icing all over his face. Merle just grinned at him like a big, messy kid. In response, Daryl swiped a hand-sized chocolate chip cookie off Merle's table.

"Hey! Git yer own fuckin' cookie!" Merle tried kicking him but Daryl dodged, finishing off the cookie in four large bites. "There's a whole damned tray of 'em over there," he muttered, pointing to the dessert case. Daryl just smirked at him. It was hard to take Merle's barking seriously when he still had a smear of chocolate frosting on his cheek.

Suddenly, a noise caught Daryl's attention and he was instantly on alert. He readied the crossbow and surveyed the area outside the front door of the café. It was still empty but he realized the sound was running footsteps echoing off the walls. They were getting closer.

Aware of the possibility of a new threat from Daryl's stance, Merle wiped his arm across his face to dispatch the lingering icing and then pulled out his gun. He dropped down on his one knee by the window, peering out cautiously. The brothers eyed each other meaningfully. Together they felt like they could handle any threat.

The loud slapping sounds of heavy shoes hitting the pavement materialized into a man tearing down the street. He was obviously frantic and breathing hard, like he was running for his life. Every couple steps, he would glance behind, almost like he was expecting his pursuer to be upon him.

Indecision flooded Daryl's mind. Normally he'd let this frightened man run right by, not wanting to get involved. Yet, if the man was running from a mass of walkers, Daryl wanted to know. If that was the case, they needed to get up to the roof pronto. Without even thinking more about it, Daryl whistled sharply out at the door as the man blindly went past in the middle of the street.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? We don't know this guy?" Merle admonished him.

"I want answers about this fuckin' place. And what if he's runnin' from walkers? Don'tcha wanna know bout that?" Daryl spat back. Merle cursed back at him, knowing his brother was right but not liking it.

The man had stopped running but he hadn't approached them. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He was eyeing them warily, especially Daryl with his crossbow up. He looked near Daryl's age, probably in his mid-to-late thirties. Once again, he glimpsed the road behind him before looking back at Daryl. Consciously deciding the man was not a threat and that the two of them could handle him if he decided to turn into one, Daryl lowered the crossbow and motioned for the man to come join them.

With one more look up the street to ensure that he was no longer being chased, he went over to the café. Daryl could see the man was not in great shape. He was pale and sweating, his clothing disheveled. His eyes were red-rimmed. The distinct smell of alcohol oozed out of him. Daryl had a feeling this man was coming out of a major hangover.

"Thank god! I can't tell you how good it is to see other people! This place is damned right scary all alone." The man smiled as he panted.

"Ya got walkers tailing ya?" Daryl asked, getting down to important business.

"Walkers?" the guy asked in a confused voice. He examined the interior of café, his focus narrowing in on the drink display. "Ya mind?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as he walked over and grabbed a bottle of Coke. He twisted the cap off and guzzled half the bottle before coming up for air. His breathing was finally calming down. "So much better. Thanks."

Ignoring this, Merle was on his feet and in the guy's face. "Ma brother asked you a question. You got walkers chasin' ya?"

The man took a step back, his face darkening. "Listen friend. I don't know what a walker is but you best be keeping back."

Daryl could see Merle starting to get angry so he inserted himself between the two men, preferring that the drunk and the druggie not start coming to blows. "Walkers. Ya know; biters, zombies, undead people who wanna eat yur face off!"

He gave Daryl a look like he was crazy. "I don't know anything about zombies that want to eat off your face. Sounds like something out of a movie. I did hear they just remade that movie _Night of the Living Dead_. Maybe you boys are a little confused."

"Just?" Merle piped in. "That piece of shit came out like twenty years ago, back in the nineties. Lacked all the coolness and camp that made the original a classic cult hit. And we know the difference between a fuckin' movie and reality, asshole."

Now the guy looked confused, like he was unsure of himself. "Back in the nineties? But it's 1990 now." He said but his voice wavered a little. He was wondering just how much he's drank the night before.

"Bullshit. That was twenty years ago. Who's the confused one now!" Merle shouted, trying to get back in his face. Daryl blocked him.

"Look, I don't give a shit what year ya think it is! If it ain't walkers yer runnin' from, what is it?" Daryl interrogated him.

The man ran his hand across his weary face. He seemed to be debating on what to say on that subject. "If I'm going to tell you that, I'm going to need something stronger than this." He dumped the bottle of soda on the table next to him. "Come on, boys. I saw a bar just a couple blocks down. Looked ritzy so probably has all the good top-shelf stuff."

This seemed to get Merle's attention. He pursued his lips and the newcomer, as if reassessing him. Then a bright grin lit his face and he clamped the guy on the back. "That's a great idea man! We've been hangin' around this preppy shithole when I shoulda figured there'd be a place with the good stuff. Let's go." With that, the two men walked out the door like brand new best friends.

Daryl trailed behind them, ever watchful. He did not want to go to a bar. With all the strange shit surrounding them, drinking was the last thing they needed. Not that he couldn't drink with the best of them, he just needed to keep his head clear and he'd hoped Merle would feel the same way. He sighed when he remembered who exactly he was thinking of.

As they stepped into the posh bar, their new friend turned around to face them. "I'm Herschel, by the way. Herschel Greene."

Merle, whose spirits had cheered considerably at the prospect of unsupervised fun in a bar, gripped Herschel's hand. "Nice ta meet ya, Herschel. I'm Merle and the quiet sour one there is ma baby brother Daryl," he said, referencing the angry scowl on Daryl's face. Herschel nodded politely to him anyway.

Rubbing his hands together, Merle strode confidently behind the bar. He was like a kid in a candy store as he pulled bottle after bottle off the shelves. Herschel went to the far side of the bar and started filling mugs with beer from the taps. Merle set out three shot glasses and filled them up messily, getting alcohol all over the bar as he poured. Herschel came back with the mugs, practically brimming over. He pushed one to Merle and one to Daryl.

Daryl shoved it back. "I ain't drinkin'. One of us gotta keep their wits about 'em," he grumbled.

"Don't be such a pussy. We ain't getting smashed here. Just enjoyin' a few beers and a coupla shots. Need ta take the edge off so Herschel here can tell his story," Merle berated him before taking a long swig of beer. Daryl just rolled his eyes and looked back to the windows, making sure no threats were emerging in the street. A lot of the time, Merle had a hard time stopping once he started. "Suit yerself," Merle muttered. He and Herschel clinked glasses and downed their shots. Then Merle downed Daryl's shot as well.

After three shots and most of the mug of beer, Daryl had had it with waiting. He glared at Herschel. "Ya loose now? Able ta talk now that ya've had a little fix?" he inquired, a hint of judgment in his tone.

Herschel didn't seem to notice. He had a buzz going and seemed to be enjoying it. Nodding, he said, "You've got to believe me when I tell you this stuff and that I'm not crazy."

"No guarantees on that," Daryl said in a low voice. "Spit it out."

Taking one more drink and finishing off the beer, Herschel began his story. "I was out at the Miller farm, taking care of their colicky horse. I'm a veterinarian, just so you know. Mostly work on large animals, like farm animals. Anyway, I stopped at my local place for just a couple drinks before I went home. My wife, Josephine, doesn't like drinking and nags me something awful when I indulge at home. Says I'm turning into my father. That bastard was a mean drunk and then had the gall to die without apologizing for all the shit he put me through. Did leave me the farm though, so I've got to give him that. Anyway, so I stopped off for a beer or two," he paused. "Maybe a few shots of whiskey too," he admitted. Merle nodded in understanding.

"What year was it?" Daryl interjected.

"1990," Herschel answered. Daryl frowned at that answer but Herschel held up his hand. "Let me finish." Daryl tilted his head for him to continue. "So I'm driving back to my farm on autopilot and I'm feeling pretty good. That was when I realized I had no idea where the hell I was. This god-damned town appeared out of nowhere! I tried turning around, thinking I must have made a wrong turn but I know all the roads around for fifty miles around my farm. This town simply appeared out of nowhere."

"Seems to be this towns MO," Daryl commented. "Appeared out in the middle of the woods outside Atlanta for us."

Herschel nodded. "My truck died. It was getting dark and I figured I could use someone's phone. I went house to house but there was no one. Not a single soul. Not a dog in the yard. Nothing. I finally admitted that maybe I had drank a little too much and my mind was playing tricks on me. So I went back to my car to sleep it off. I actually was hoping a cop would come along and bust me, just so he could help me get back to familiar territory. But no, this place is empty, a ghost town. Until I saw him." Herschel shuddered and downed another shot Merle had poured.

"Who'd ya see? Bigfoot?" Daryl threw at him.

Herschel shook his head seriously. "No. I saw me."

Both Daryl and Merle frowned at him. "Like yer evil twin or somethin'?" Merle questioned.

"He was old, like twenty or thirty years older than me. His hair was all white. We were both surprised when we ran into each other but then it seemed like he flipped out. I- I think he smelled the liquor on me. He was carrying a shotgun and when he started yelling at me, I thought he was going to shoot me! I ran for my life and for a little while, he chased me!" Herschel exclaimed.

"Obviously, yer older self don't like ya drinkin'," Daryl said, his tone somewhat mocking as he eyed the empty glasses around him.

"Whatever," the man blew him off.

As if on cue, the front door opened and the older man stepped into the bar. "Why am I not surprised to find you drinking in the bar?" he spoke, sounding almost sad. There was a definite resemblance to the man at the bar but this man's hair had turned bright white and his face was deeply lined. Daryl and Merle both did a double take, shocked into inaction for a moment. However, the older man was still clutching the shotgun, which he brought up the moment Daryl noticed the danger and was off his feet, aiming his crossbow at him. The younger Herschel just gaped at him.

"You best put that down before ya get hurt, old man," Daryl cautioned him.

Herschel actually put up the shotgun, holding a placating hand towards them. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to talk to myself." He chuckled at that. "It isn't a crime to talk to yourself."

The younger man jumped up from the bar stool in a rage. "Leave me alone!" he screamed. "I don't think you're me! You're a demon. You want to corrupt me and kill me. Or else I'm already dead and this is hell. You're probably the devil! I won't let you take me!" he shouted and sprinted out the back door in a flash.

Daryl and Merle both looked back to the older Herschel, unsure what to do now. Herschel sighed heavily and proceeded to sit down on the bar stool next to Daryl. The two other men were at a loss.

"I'm not the devil," Herschel assured them. "Although I'm not sure this isn't hell." Merle offered him a beer but Herschel shook his head. "No thank you, son. Gave that up a long time ago. That's why I want to talk to him. There are important things that are going to be happening in his life very soon and he needs to know that."

"How'd you end up here?" Merle asked curiously, getting over the shock of seeing the same man from different decades together in the same room.

"I was heading back to the farm after clearing out all the supplies from my vet clinic in town when I drove right back into this cursed town. My truck died and I ran right into him after exploring for a while."

"You cleaned out your supplies? You dealin' with walkers by any chance?" Daryl squinted at him, wondering if this older version would know what he was talking about.

"Walkers? Is that what you're calling the people afflicted with the flesh-eating plague?" Herschel turned to face him fully.

"They ain't got some disease! They're dead and they'll kill ya if ya give 'em a chance," Merle told him forcefully.

Herschel shook his head, not engaging Daryl in the argument. "Believe what you want but I do agree that they are dangerous. It almost acts like a severe Rabies virus, giving them the urge to bite you and spread it. Just so you know, there are some of them here. What did you call them? Walkers? I saw a small group of them wandering around just after I got here. I hid and they disappeared but watch yourselves." He got off the stool and walked slowly towards the back door. "I've got to go find him. Good luck to you boys."

With that, Herschel was gone. Both of them were gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Hi all! Jumping back to the other timeline for a little while. Remember that action-packed chapter I promised you? Here it is! Hope it's exciting!

**Chapter 6 – Alabama, 14 years later**

They came 6 days later.

Before that day came, everyone was on high alert preparing for the potential danger. Plans for both additional fortification as well as escape were put into motion. Barbed wire had been scavenged from what had been a farm a few miles away and used to line the top of their walls. The night watches were doubled and another watch added during the day. No one was to be without a weapon of some kind at any time. Hunting trips were suspended; there was enough food stored up to last at least two weeks.

Four cars, enough to fit everyone, were stationed just outside the front gate for an easy exit. The cars were packed with three days worth of food and water along with two guns and one precious box of bullets. It was all that could be spared because the rest was distributed among the adults to be used during watches. There was also a map in each car, although the location of their meeting place wasn't marked on it. This was just in case the any of the maps were to fall into the wrong hands. They all knew where to meet up if needed.

They came 6 days later. They came at night, one of the blackest nights of the month with the new moon giving off no light. The stars that shone in the sky seemed cold and did little to help those who suffered that night.

Daryl woke up in the dark, unsure what had disturbed his sleep. He'd been sleeping like a dead man until the nightmares started a few hours earlier. That had him tossing and turning as his anxieties about the threat hanging over them mounted. Perhaps he just knew this night was going to be different from the others. He didn't want to admit it but he was afraid of these savages. They wanted to take away everything most precious to him: his home, his people, his family. He couldn't stand just waiting around for them to come.

He'd pushed himself to the limits in those six days since Rick returned with that awful announcement. He'd gone with Tyreese and Glenn to scavenge the barbed wire and then did the majority of the work putting it up on the wall. He'd demanded to be on at least every other watch shift and often would just stay through the next one, eating whatever food Carol had brought him. People were starting to get annoyed with him constantly reminding them to sharpen their blades, practice their skills and not get sloppy. Even tolerant Carol couldn't help rolling her eyes at him after he'd snapped at her for being in the garden alone.

Finally, Rick had to order Daryl to bed that afternoon. The man was dead on his feet and there was the risk he was going to fall asleep on watch. Rick rarely exerted his authority over them these days but this time it was necessary for the good of them all. Daryl had grumbled a little at the order but even he knew he couldn't hold out any longer. It was the middle of the afternoon but he'd crashed into his bed and slept like it was the middle of the night instead. Even Carol climbing into bed beside him hadn't woken him. Then came the bad dreams. Then came the sounds.

_Snick...thunk._

Daryl bolted upright in bed. The noise had been faint but distinct. He recognized the sound of an arrow being unleashed from a bow and hitting something solid. He heard it every day on the training field.

Careful to stay in the shadows, Daryl slipped out of bed and went to the window. His window on the top floor faced the back of the property, away from the view of the balcony lookout. It was why they had started having people walk the perimeter of the compound, to have more coverage. Unfortunately, at this moment, it wasn't enough.

The sight before him made his blood run cold. Men were coming over their wall. It was obvious that they had brought ladders, several of them. Large, rubber-backed carpets had been thrown over the barbed wire, effectively neutralizing it. Many of the men held glowing torches and it made them look like demons born out of the darkness. They were all shirtless, their bodies covered in black paint. Streaks of white paint from fingers were striped across their ribs, on their noses, lips and around the eyes. They looked like walking skeletons even though they were really humans who'd reverted back to very primitive ways.

Down below he could see where the arrow he'd heard released had struck. Tyreese was crumpled on the ground, the arrow buried in his chest. It had pierced his heart, killing him instantly. The skeleton men avoided the body but did not finish the job. Daryl knew from Dr. Jenner at the CDC when all this started that he could reanimate anytime. It made him wonder if leaving their people to turn was another psychological scare tactic in the attack.

Feeling the adrenalin surge through him, he shook Carol awake roughly. Her eyes snapped open, fuzzy at first from sleep but quickly focusing on him.

"Bastards are here," he said with venom. Carol whipped out of bed without a word and they both pulled on their boots quickly. Everyone in the house had been sleeping in their clothes for fast action. "Get the kids and wake everybody up. I'll meet ya at the front door in a minute. We're gonna make a run for the cars," he directed her.

"We're not fighting?" she asked incredulously. Daryl had seemed adamant about protecting their land at the meeting, only seeing escape as a last option. This was a turnaround for him.

Daryl shook his head as he loaded the crossbow, getting three shots before he'd need to reload again. "Too many of 'em. Gonna overrun us and kill us all." He paused, watching her for a second as she slung her already-packed bag over the shoulder and readied her sharpened machete. Then he spoke again, his voice strained. "Ty's dead. He was on patrol duty. Fuckers shot him through the chest." Their eyes met. "They're gonna let him turn. That's why the last place they hit was crawling with walkers afterwards."

Carol gasped. She quickly ran over to him and kissed him swiftly on the lips. "Stay safe," she told him, their mantra when they separated. Then she was out the door.

Daryl went back to the window. There were several skeleton men perched on the wall, some holding bows and arrows and others holding spears. Not a gun in sight, which wasn't surprising. However, Daryl could already hear gun fire coming from the other side of the house. His people were fighting back against this onslaught. He couldn't help smiling grimly at the thought of Rick and Carl, on watch duty that night, blasting away the invading skeleton men.

Knowing he was well hidden in the darkened room, he carefully aimed the crossbow. The bolt flew out, embedding itself through Tyreese's head. Sometimes Tyreese had gotten on his nerves but he was a good guy and did not deserve to become a walker. Of course, that got the attention of several men in the vicinity but they couldn't tell yet where he was.

Daryl let another bolt loose, hitting one of the men holding a spear on the wall through the forehead. His body stiffened from sudden death and he fell backwards. The men next to him went crazy, jumping up and seeking cover. One of them shot an arrow in his direction but it lodged in the wall under the window. With a smirk, Daryl nailed that guy too, dropping him to the ground.

While Daryl had been killing his cohort, the other man took a different tactic. He ignited his arrow with fire and aimed right at Daryl's window. Daryl saw the flaming projectile flying towards him just in time to throw his body out of the way, landing on the bed. The arrow hit the ceiling and started burning.

"Shit!" Daryl growled as he grabbed a blanket off the bed. He wrenched the burning arrow out of the dry wall and had to stretch up to slap the flames out with the blanket. Unfortunately, another flaming arrow hit the window sill. Daryl made a noise of frustration because he couldn't get to it to extinguish the flame. He'd have been an obvious target in the light.

Throwing the blanket from across the room at the fire, he hoped it would smother it rather than feeding than flame. Not that he had time to find out. He grabbed his own pack and ran down the stairs. On the second floor, it was obvious that Carol had done her work of getting everybody up. People were rushing around, grabbing their few essential belongings and hustling children along.

"Gather at the front door! Get all the outside lights on!" Daryl yelled at them. Several people nodded understandingly. He pushed past them all, heading for the watch duty balcony. The guns were still firing.

The balcony was covered with arrows and even a few spears, especially the back wall. Rick and Carl were laying on the floor at the very edge, shooting anything that moved down below. Parts of their bodies were protected by the chairs but it was only a matter of time before one of those pointy weapons nailed them in a leg.

"We gotta ditch this place!" Daryl shouted, dodging another arrow that burrowed into the wood of the door he stood behind. "Save yer bullets for gettin' to the cars!" Rick and Carl looked at each other, seeming like they were conferring about whether to keep fighting or running. Carl nodded.

Suddenly, the exterior lights that had been positioned all over the house instantly lit up all at once. The entire compound was bathed in light. All of the skeleton men flinched, blinded by the sharp artificial brightness when they had adjusted to the shadowy torchlight. The arrows and spears stopped for a moment.

Squinting, Daryl shouted at Rick and Carl again. "Come on!" Without anymore hesitation, Rick and Carl army crawled backwards to the door Daryl waited at. The two men climbed to their feet in the hallway as Daryl slammed the door closed. They only made it two steps away when a huge spear crashed through the wood, right where Daryl had been standing. "Fuck," he muttered and then the three of them took off towards the stairs.

Before they reached the staircase, Max appeared. He hobbled on the cane but his face was set in a look of grim determination. "Give me one of the guns and as many bullets as you can spare," he simply stated.

"Why aren't you down with the others?" Rick questioned, completely ignoring Max's request.

Max shook his head. "I'm not going to make it out of this. I never make it out of these things unscathed." He pointed to his head, reminding them of when he'd been smacked by a falling ladder when the hardware store they were ransacking was overrun with walkers. He still suffered headaches from it. Then he pointed at his mangled leg from the last attack, that one by humans. "Get my family out of here. My grandson is almost two and I want him to reach that birthday. I'll cover you so you can get to the cars as long as I can." He grabbed the gun out of Carl's hand, who let it go without a fight.

Rick nodded and shook his hand. Daryl clamped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it with gratitude for the sacrifice Max was making. Then Max pushed them away and hobbled towards the second bedroom. The window faced in the direction of the loaded cars.

The entire group was gathered in the foyer. The children looked frightened but they were acting bravely. Even the babies were being frightened, their mothers trying to soothe them. Glenn was covering the front door, having taken out several skeleton men. The front door was a massive slab of oak, carved into a beautiful tree design. Sadly, it was being marred by arrows and spears but the wood was too thick for them to penetrate through. However, it was not immune to fire. Daryl could smell smoke coming from somewhere else in the house. It was burning and they needed to get out.

Rick took charge, falling naturally into the leadership role he'd tried to distance himself from for the past few years. "We've got to abandon this place. These people are out for our blood! We run and we can save ourselves. That's more important than any house or possession. Agreed?" Heads nodded in unison. "Okay, here's how it's going to go. Glenn, the gate unlocked?"

Glenn glanced behind him from his station at the door. He had been the other one on patrol duty but he'd managed to get back inside before being taken down like Tyreese. "It's open."

"Good. Then Carl, Beth with Lindsay, Judith and I are going to for the first car. It's the sturdiest and we'll take out the gate. It should just swing open and everyone else can follow behind. Second car will be Daryl, Carol, Hunter and Amelia. Third car will be Glenn, Maggie, Joe, and Michonne. Fourth car will be Alex with Brian, Shannon and Sasha."

"Wait, what about Tyreese! I'm not leaving without him," Sasha said frantically.

"He's dead," Daryl told her. It sounded cold at first, which was Daryl's way. However, he then looked her in the eye and said, "But he wouldn't want that ta happen ta you." Sasha blinked tears out of her eyes and nodded at him, knowing his words were true. She gripped her gun steadfastly.

Alex ran for the stairs. "My dad, he's still up there!"

Carl tackled him. "He's not coming either."

Alex gaped at him. "Is he dead?"

Rick spoke up. "He's tired, Alex. Tired of his injuries. He wants you to get out, told us to make sure Brian makes it to his second birthday. He's going to cover our escape." Alex started to cry, slumping on the step. He'd never been without his father before. Shannon came over and laid her hand on Alex's shoulder. The man seemed to gather his wits and scooped up his son. He nodded that he was ready. It was none too soon as smoke began to fill the room. The fire was spreading towards them.

"Decide now who's going to be driving because you don't want to be fighting over that once you get out there. Beware that the arrows and spears are flying freely and could hit any of us." Rick left the implied part about what they should do if any of them were hit unspoken. That would have to be an individual choice but stopping to help would probably mean instant death for that person as well.

People were starting to cough as more smoke poured in. Rick passed out the remaining two guns that were loaded to Daryl and Alex along with another box of bullets for Glenn's empty revolver. Fire was in the next room, enveloping the library. It was now or never. They ran for the door and out into the night.

For a moment, it seemed like the attackers might have disappeared. The yard was quiet with all the lights shining down on them. Dead skeleton men lay in various positions across the landscape. They were almost halfway to the row of cars when they heard a gun above them start shooting. Max was taking down more skeleton men around them.

Carol was in the lead, heading for the second car. It had been agreed that she would be driving so that Daryl could continue shooting from the passenger seat, whether it be with the gun or his crossbow. Hunter was behind her, followed by Amelia and Daryl bringing up the rear. He noted with grim satisfaction that Rick had made it to the lead car, blasting away one of the skeleton men coming at him with a spear. Carol had run around the car and gotten it open. Hunter climbed into the backseat.

In front of Daryl, Amelia stopped unexpectedly. She turned back to the house. "My bow!" she cried. "I can't leave it behind!"

"Amelia, no!" he screamed, grabbing her arm as she tried to fly by him. The house was already burning down, flames evident in the windows. "It ain't worth it. I'll make ya a new one," he told her as he clutched her in his arms, pulling her towards the car.

Just then, a spear flew out of the air and buried itself in the ground right where she'd been standing. They both froze for a second, Amelia's face losing all color. Daryl shoved her into the back of the car. Rage coupled with terror clenched in his chest at the thought of that spear having just missed impaling his daughter's body. He wrenched the spear out of the ground and threw it with all his might at one of the skeleton men running by. It lodged between the man's shoulders and he fell dead to the ground.

A hail of arrows came out of the nowhere and Daryl saw Maggie's leg get hit. She fell with a cry but Glenn was right there, hauling her up and into the car. Unfortunately, Shannon was not so lucky. An arrow buried itself in her head and she went down. Alex had been holding her hand while also carrying little Brian. Daryl's heart broke for the man when he heard the miserable cry come from him as he examined his wife for any signs of life. There were none. He'd lost two of the most valuable people to him in a matter of minutes. Yet, the sound of his toddler son beginning to wail brought him back to reality and he left her body behind.

Rick's car was moving, pushing through the front gate. Daryl scrambled into the front seat and opened the window. He was shooting at any of those motherfuckers that dared cross his path. Carol followed Rick out the gate but stopped short when Rick's car started careening out of control.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Daryl yelled and then saw the road. There were spikes of metal strewn all across it. The tires of their car had been blown out. Rick and Carl got out and were covering Judith with Beth and Lindsey as they ran for the other cars.

Daryl motioned them over. "We got room for two more!" Then three arrows flew out of the night. One of them sunk into the roof of the car just where Daryl leaned out of the window, another in the roof above him and the third just above the wheel well. "Shit!" Daryl cursed and pulled back in to the car.

Rick waved at him and shouted, "Go around back to the dirt road! Doubtful they booby trapped that one. Take out as many of them as you can. We'll follow behind and meet you at the designated location. Go now!" He opened the trunk of the disabled car and started loading as many supplies as he could into the other cars while Carl and Glenn covered him. Arrows were still falling. One of them grazed Rick's arm and Daryl could see the man flinch as blood soaked his sleeve.

Carol took off around the compound. She mowed down any skeleton men that got in their way, wincing with each thump. Luckily, the car held together through the onslaught and they were able to escape down the hidden back road. All Daryl could hope for was that the rest of them would get out intact and that they had killed enough of those fucking savages to have ruined their attack.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey everyone! Hope you weren't too upset when Shannon got killed. I mean, there had to be some payback, right? And if someone had to die in that scene, she kind of deserved it. As for Rick, I added him getting shot in the arm after watching him banish Carol from the group in the show. That made me so upset!

Just a heads up for those of you who never read "The Green-Eyed Monster". Merle was still alive by the end of that story. It had been written during the hiatus of season 3 and Merle was very much alive at the time. Despite the fact that I did tweak a few things to account for the second half of season 3, I did not change that fact. This will make more sense when you read this chapter.

**Chapter 7 – On the road to Peakesville**

They drove through the night, taking the risk of being spotted by the headlights. It would take about four and a half hours to make it to the far northwest corner of Tennessee. That was where Josh told them the friendly settlement was located. Despite no contact with them, it was believed they would be willing to take their group of refuges in peacefully.

At first they were all jumpy, the kids practically bouncing out of their seats with nervousness. Daryl was thankful they didn't bombard him with questions he couldn't answer. He had no idea if everyone else made it out. He sincerely hoped they all had.

The other thing the children were excited about was the fact that they had never been further off the compound than hunting in the woods surrounding it. They had been too young to go on runs or even trading missions. Of course they'd read about different places in the world and seen pictures in the many books in the well-equipped library. There was also the occasional movie they'd get to watch in the media room in the basement when it was deemed alright to waste the power of the generator. Yet, there was no comparison to stepping outside those familiar walls for the first time in your life. When they'd driven into an area that had been more populated, their faces were glued to the windows, fascinated with strip malls, townhouses and tall office buildings.

Eventually, the adrenalin wore off. Carol pulled the car over, letting everyone relieve themselves. The guys were waiting for the women to finish up, always taking less time. Hunter watched wide-eyed as Daryl ripped out the arrows from his side of their car. He snapped them angrily in his hands, throwing the broken remains on the ground. They represented the loss of something that had taken years of hard work to build and perfect. Something that had been dear to him and provided protection for his family that had been lost.

Daryl couldn't help smirking a little when Hunter wrenched another arrow that he'd missed sticking out of the trunk. The boy repeated the motions of his father, breaking the shaft and hurling it to the ground. Then he stomped on it for good measure. Daryl nodded his head in approval when Hunter's eyes meet his own.

Carol and Amelia came around the back of the car then, pulling chicken jerky sticks out of the supplies in the trunk for them to munch on as they got back in. Daryl switched with her, taking over the driving while she settled in the passenger seat. It wasn't long before Amelia and Hunter were slumped over asleep. Carol was quiet, just staring out the window and watching as the scenery glided by. She clutched the map in her hands but Daryl knew most of the ride was a straight shot on the highway. When he hit backups of permanently stilled cars, he'd just drive around or on the median. There was the very rare walker that would always turn its attention on them but otherwise, the world around them was dead.

As he drove on autopilot, Daryl's mind began to wander back to the last attack they'd had to deal with. The Governor's revenge eight years ago.

_ Merle and Daryl were on watch duty that night with Daryl up on the balcony and Merle patrolling the ground. The moon had been full, giving off enough light to render the night-vision goggles unnecessary. Merle checked in with Daryl looking down from above him, saluting his brother with the sharp blade of his makeshift metal stump. Daryl simply flipped him his middle finger, eliciting a chuckle from Merle before he moved on around the perimeter of the wall. Their brand of brotherly love._

_ They had probably been watching the compound for days, observing routines and schedules of the daily running of the place. Once Merle was out of Daryl's eyesight around the side of the house, they came over the wall for him. Before he could comprehend what was happening, a rock slammed down on his head. He went down, to stunned to react for a moment. In that time span, a gag was harshly shoved into his mouth and he almost vomited from it hitting the back of his throat._

_He was hauled to his knees by Shumpert, the muscular black guy. It was just the three of them, all looking somewhat worse for wear. Merle had no idea about where they'd been all these years but they had been engaged in an endless search for their revenge. Philip Blake was relentless in his pursuit of them, his psychosis taking over his functioning mind until all he thought about or dreamed about was killing them. Specifically Merle, Michonne and Rick. All the others would be a bonus for him but those three haunted him. It drove him into utter madness._

_Shumpert followed the madman simply because he didn't have the will to do anything else. After watching everyone left in the world he might have cared about get gunned down after attacking the prison, he felt himself go dead inside. He was like a voodoo zombie, following orders with utter loyalty and without thought. _

_Martinez was different though. He tried once to escape twice and kill The Governor once. Shumpert, the now mindless henchman, had thwarted his plans each time. The first time he'd gotten a warning. After that he'd lost 3 toes and then 3 fingers. The one thing stopping him from suicide was that if Philip Blake finally got what he wanted in killing Merle and the prison group, he might finally be allowed to go free. Or perhaps they would just kill the bastard instead._

_There were sparkly flashes obscuring his vision from the blow to his head, but Merle knew exactly who he was facing when the tall, one-eyed man stepped in front of him. He towered over Merle, his stance arrogant and in charge. All Merle wanted to do was wipe that self-satisfied smile off Philip's lips, preferably with his fists._

"_Hello, Merle. Miss me?" Philip asked right before he kicked him savagely in the gut. Merle doubled over, his groan muffled by the gag. Philip grabbed his face hard, pushing Merle back up. "You think you could just betray me like that and get away with it?" His voice was low but dangerous. "That you could just leave with your brother, start a nice happy home here in middle-no-where Alabama and that I'd never find you?" _

_Merle looked into his eyes, the eyes of a crazy man. He so wanted to answer back, to tell Philip what an egomaniacal asshole he was. The man had paradise at Woodbury, standing strong during the goddamned zombie apocalypse, but his power-hungry whims and violence fucked it all up. Unable to speak, he simply narrowed his eyes, trying to convey all the hate he held for this man._

_The knife flashed in the moonlight as Philip slowly pulled it out of the sheath on his belt. Merle watched with disgust as he licked the blade with his tongue. Knowing what was coming, he started to struggle. He actually achieved shoving Martinez off his one side but there was no way to dislodge the iron grip of Shumpert on the other side. Grunting into the gag, Merle lashed out against the restraint, fighting the inevitable outcome of the situation._

"_Consider this payback," he stated with a snarl as he shoved the knife straight into Merle's gut. He pulled it back and slid it between Merle's ribs of his left chest. The Governor finished him off by dragging the knife across Merle's throat. He went deep enough to nick a jugular but not the carotid arteries. Merle would bleed out but not quite as fast this way. Philip wanted his suffering to last as long as possible without compromising the destruction of the rest of their targets._

"_Don't worry. I'll be sending your baby brother and all his friends here right to hell after you. You won't get lonely," Philip said menacingly as he threw Merle's dying body to the dirt and kicked him in the back as he sauntered off. Shumpert and Martinez trailed behind him. Merle could have sworn he saw Martinez throw him a look of pity back over his shoulder._

_On sheer willpower alone, Merle dragged his dying body around the wall. His life's blood was pouring out of him but he was aware enough to know that he was not going to let that motherfucker win. He had to alert his brother and save everyone else. With the very last of his strength and unable to speak with the gag in his mouth and his throat slashed, Merle slammed his metal stump against the wall. _

_Daryl was whittling new bolts for his crossbow up on the balcony, often scanning the surround area for anything out of the ordinary. He'd been too far away to hear any of the commotion on the other side of the house. The banging noise coming from below instantly caught his attention. It took a split second to process what he was seeing: his brother was covered in blood, slumped on the ground against the wall._

_Panic drove his actions then. Scooping up the crossbow was almost pure instinct for him as he ran through the door back into the house. "Rick! Rick!" he screamed over and over again as he banged on doors along the second floor hallway. He didn't stop moving, needing to get down to his fallen brother._

_Rick came running around the corner, obviously just awakened from sleep. He was in a thin white T-shirt, sweat pants and had slipped some moccasins on his feet. His gun was out, the safety off but pointed to the ground. "Daryl!" he shouted as the younger redneck hustled down the stairs._

_Daryl didn't even pause. "Merle's down! He's bleedin'!" His hand reached out for the knob of the front door when a high pitched scream echoed through the night. It was coming from the back of the house. That gave Daryl pause. The only person out back was Michonne, taken to sleeping in a tent behind the house during the warmer months. If the normally stoic woman was screaming then something was very, very wrong back there._

_Rick motioned him forward. "Go to Merle!" Then he whirled around towards the back door. Both Glenn and Tyreese appeared at the top of the stairs, still in their night clothes but armed with long knives. Glenn backed up Daryl while Tyreese went after Rick._

_Once he burst through the back door, Rick raised his weapon as he took in the scene in front of him. Michonne's tent had been torn to shreds. Shumpert and Martinez were holding her down as she thrashed against the ground. The Governor kneeled beside her, his knife out. Michonne's face was a bloody mess. It was obvious what he'd done. He'd taken an eye for an eye. As if rubbing salt in her wound, he showed her her own severed eyeball punctured on the tip of his blade. He was laughing at her, a cold fanatical laugh as she fought hopelessly against them._

_Rick wasted no time. He aimed for the Governor's head but Shumpert spotted him before he could readjust and took the bullet instead. The large man's body collapsed on top of Philip, pinning him down. Martinez abandoned his post, running around the house. Tyreese went after him in a rage. _

_In that instant, Max came out the side door just in front of Martinez. He collided hard with the older man, shoving him backwards into the chicken coop. Max screamed out in pain as his foot caught in the wire and bone could be heard snapping in his leg. _

_Martinez went for the wall but not before Tyreese rammed his knife into his back. It hit the heart directly and Tyreese was almost sure the expression on Martinez's face was one of thankfulness before his eyes became unseeing. Tyreese jammed the knife through the dead man's skull, making sure he wouldn't be back to cause more havoc. Then he went to help Max._

_Back at the tent, Michonne rolled away from the Governor even as he was struggling to get free from the confines of the huge dead body pinning him down. She snatched up her sword, hidden on the other side of the air mattress she'd been sleeping on. Rick stopped short in front of the Governor, his gun trained on the man's forehead and about to pull the trigger._

"_Wait!" Michonne yelled at him. Rick could see how the knife had cut down from her forehead, through the eye and down her cheek. Blood was leaking out, dripping off her jaw but she didn't seem to notice. "He's mine," she stated simply. Rick nodded and uncocked his gun._

_Philip Blake began to laugh again. This time it was louder, great peels of laughter as she towered over him. He had stopped trying to escape. Tears leaked out of his one good eye as the crazy laughing continued. It was like a big joke to him._

"_I want you to know that this is for Andrea and all those other people you murdered, you psycho bastard!" Michonne slid the sword out of the scabbard, throwing the cover to the side and wrapping both hands around the handle._

_Philip laughed even more. "Andrea! That woman was a real shitty lay," he mocked her._

_With a growl, she plunged the sword down through his good eye. The laughter cut off abruptly. Michonne then released the sword, still standing straight up from Philip's head, and collapsed in a faint. Rick ran to her side. Hefting her up in his arms, he started carrying her to the house. _

_Around the front of the house, Daryl was trying desperately to stop Merle's bleeding. Glenn had his shirt off, putting pressure on the wounds in the chest and the abdomen while Daryl held his red rag to Merle's neck. He'd pulled the gag out of Merle's mouth but he could already here his brother's breathing failing as his skin turned ghostly white._

_Daryl was crying. It was involuntary, the tears just leaking out of his eyes beyond his control. He knew he was fighting a losing battle but he was going to fight it anyway. Merle had been a lot of things to him during his life. He'd been his playmate when he'd been very young. He'd been his protector after his mama died. He'd been his tormentor when he'd been high on drugs and Daryl had been a withdrawn teenager. He'd been his burden when Merle was so strung out Daryl had to support both of them. Recently, he'd actually become his brother, there to help Daryl with the twins and actually take the responsibility of helping with the household. It was too cruel for fate to snatch him away now, just when he'd become the man Daryl always hoped he'd be._

"_The Governor's dead!" Maggie shouted as she came out of the house. Daryl ignored her, his full attention on Merle, but he knew it had to have been him who did this._

_Merle's lips moved and Daryl knew he was trying to say something. He leaned down, his ear to his brother's mouth. "Stop bein' such a pussy," Merle whispered out. Blood came out of his mouth along with the words._

_Daryl couldn't help but giggle, which sounded a bit hysterical. It was just like Merle to say something like that as his dying words. "Merle, don't die," Daryl pleaded with him._

"_Gotta go, little brother. Ya take care of them twins and yer woman. Don't be an asshole ta them like our daddy was ta us. Gonna meet that motherfucking Governor down in hell and kick his ass." With that, the light faded from Merle's eyes and all his muscles relaxed. His fight was over._

"Daryl."

The voice snapped him awake. He whipped his head around, confused about where he was for a few moments. Then he remembered exactly where he was and what had happened. Carol sat next to him, her fingers curled around his forearm. Amelia was watching him from the back seat, her eyes concerned. Hunter was still sleeping.

At some point during the night, he must have pulled over and fallen asleep. He didn't remember doing it, he was that far into the memory of that horrible night. Now the sun was coming over the horizon. It was time to get moving again.

"Merle?" Carol asked. Daryl rubbed his hand over his weary face and nodded. Carol gave him a little reassuring smile. "That man died a hero. We'll never forget that."

Amelia chimed in, "Uncle Merle saved us all from that evil man." Daryl nodded, smiled at her in the rearview mirror and shifted the car into drive.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey Everyone! So I know things are a little lopsided in the story currently but I promise it's all going to come together in the next couple chapters. Hope you are all enjoying it!

I also expanded a tiny bit in the fan fiction and wrote a non-Walking Dead smutty one-shot. I saw "The Book Thief" yesterday and I am now totally shipping Liesel/Max. Check it out!

**Chapter 8 – Peakesville**

The day was cloudy, not raining but there was a chill wind in the air. Even the birds didn't seem very active and it was mostly quiet around them. It seemed more appropriate to them that it not been a beautiful day when they all knew that at least some of their family didn't make it out of the attack alive last night. It was like the rest of the world was mourning with them.

Daryl had pulled over at a small rest stop along the highway. It hadn't been much back during the days of civilization, just some bathrooms, vending machines and a few picnic tables under an overhang. The vending machine had been smashed open and left empty years before and none of them dared venture into the bathrooms. Luckily, the picnic tables seemed in fairly good condition, most likely since they'd been sheltered from a lot of the elements by the overhang.

The most disturbing aspect of the place was the sheer amount of bones scattered around. Many of them were in piles with torn bits of clothing encompassing them. Daryl knew that a huge herd of walkers had probably come through in their last days of animation, many of them falling as they shuffled along to nowhere. The kids looked a little freaked out by all the bones and tried not to step on them as they walked to the table. They knew about walkers, how to fight them and had even encountered several in their training. Yet, it was different out here in the big unfamiliar world. Scarier and more real without a wall to protect you. Daryl couldn't help feel a touch of pride that they seemed to be weathering it well.

Breakfast consisted of more chicken jerky along with dried fruit, hard biscuits and water from their well. Hunter had forgotten his jacket so he had the blanket from the emergency supplies draped around his shoulders. He pressed into Carol, who wrapped an arm around him. Amelia chewed at her food absently on the other side of the bench, studying the map intently. She was frowning, her finger tracing lines of roads. Her head came up and her eyes narrowed at the nearby road signs.

"Hey Dad, I think we mighta taken a wrong road," she commented.

Daryl snorted. "Was a straight shot once we got on the highway. How d' ya figure I messed that up?"

Amelia pushed the map over so he could see it. Her finger jabbed down in the middle. "We're supposed to be here, Rt. 332. But that road sign over there says I-81. Think it's a mistake?"

Grabbing the map, Daryl examined it carefully. He squinted over at the road sign. "Son of a bitch," he breathed out. She was right.

"We could backtrack, figure out where we got turned around," Carol offered as she cleaned up. She threw the trash in a can that would never be emptied again.

Daryl didn't look up. Frustration was evident in his voice. "I can't even find this fucking road on the map. It's like we drove right outta Tennessee."

Carol gave him a wary smile. "This makes me long for my GPS."

"What's a GPS?" Hunter piped up.

"Global Positioning System. It was a little box that told you where you were, anywhere in the world. It was connected to a satellite, which was positioned way up in space," Carol explained, pointing up at the sky. Hunter followed her finger, amazed that there might be anything else up there but the sun, moon, clouds and stars.

"It was fer people who couldn't read a map," Daryl muttered, trying to keep the smirk off his lips.

Carol huffed playfully. "Says the man who apparently drove us off the map."

Daryl growled under his breath then lashed out at her as she walked behind him. She yelped as he hauled her onto his lap and tickled her sides. "You doubt my tracking abilities, woman?" he yelled at her. She swatted at him, giggling and breathless before he released her. The kids just rolled their eyes at their parents' immature playfulness.

Climbing back in the car, they decided to head back in the direction they came from. Gas was in short supply and they couldn't afford to waste any on getting further lost. They all hoped that very soon they would find a familiar landmark or road that would point them in the right direction. If they were lucky, Rick would have already cleared the way at the settlement and the people would welcome them with open arms.

Just as they were all settled in and chatting more about devices that would never be useful again, like cell phones and DVRs, Daryl suddenly slammed on the brakes. They all groaned as they settled back into their seats after the jarring.

"What the hell, Dad?" Amelia questioned.

"Does that goddamned sign say Ohio?" he ground out between clenched teeth. He looked like he was about to pound the steering wheel in frustrated anger.

"Yep, Peakesville, Ohio," Hunter chimed in helpfully. There was a whole town laid out in front of them.

"There's no way," Carol told him. "We didn't have enough gas to get through Tennessee and Kentucky." She peeked at the gas gauge. "We've even still go a quarter of a tank left!" She scrambled for the map. "I swear that there should not be a town here and we cannot be in Ohio!"

"Well, it's right fucking there," Daryl muttered. "Let's see if we can at least score some gas and get our asses back ta Tennessee." Moving the car forward, he kept his eyes peeled for a gas station where he might be able to get the pumps going. Carol was still studying the map, completely stymied on how they managed to make it to Ohio. The kids were staring out the windows.

They'd gotten about halfway down the main street when the car sputtered and died.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Daryl smashed his fists against the dashboard, the final straw breaking the camel's back. He leapt out of the car and threw the hood open. Everyone else slowly got out of the car too.

"Hey, Mom?" Amelia asked.

"Yes, sweetie?" Carol answered, eyeing Daryl examining the motor while he was muttering under his breath.

"Why is this place so clean?"

Carol glanced around, frowning. There were no bones littering the ground. The stores did not appear to be looted, all their windows intact. It didn't seem like any of the plants or trees were overgrown. Nothing was rusted or dirty. It was also very quiet, not one noise other than their own disturbing the silence. She got a chill down her spine as she inspected the town of Peakesville.

Not answering Amelia's question, she instead asked both children, "Do you have your weapons with you?" Hunter pulled out his slingshot as well as his pocket knife. While he was not the greatest shot, he was definitely proficient with it.

"I lost my bow and arrows in the attack," Amelia said miserably. She did pull out her own knife but hand-to-hand combat was not her specialty.

Carol gave her a little smile and then retrieved the gun from the trunk. She handed it to her daughter along with the small box of bullets. Amelia popped out the clip, flipped the safety off and on again and then slipped the gun into the back of her pants. The bullets went into her pocket. Every child learned how to use and care for guns starting at a very young age.

"How come she gets the gun?" Hunter whined, glaring at his sister.

"Cause I'm a better shot, dirt-face," Amelia said smugly back to him.

Hunter went to smack her but Carol caught him mid-swing. "Hunter, now is not the time," she told him sternly. "As soon as we find a bow for her, you can have the gun until we get to the settlement. Deal?"

Hunter threw Amelia a dirty look. "Fine, whatever," he said and wandered over to the other side of the car. Nobody else noticed as he bent over and picked something up off the ground. It was a journal of some kind but had a lock on the front. Not a problem for Hunter one bit. He whipped an old paperclip out of his pocket. He'd found it in the old desk in his bedroom, which had once been a study, and it had come in handy with his lock-picking talent. The journal lock sprang open easily. No challenge at all.

Cracking open the book, he ignored his father's cursing at the front of the car while his mother kept watch. His sister settled into the seat next to him and was reviewing the map again.

_July 21, 2001_

_I, Milton Mamet, being of sound mind and body, have decided to commit these unique experiences to paper in order to preserve them for whoever might encounter this journal. Of course, there is the question of whether I actually am of sound mind at the moment. I don't feel like I have lost my mind but there is not a second opinion available at the moment. If it is later proven that I have become psychologically impaired, I shall endeavor to re-examine this piece of writing. _

Hunter continued reading, fascinated by this man's documentation of stumbling into Peakesville.

"Damn it, there ain't no way I'm gonna figure what the fuck is wrong with this car out here. I need ta find a mechanics or AutoZone or somethin'," Daryl snarled.

"Hey Dad, Mom, I really think you need to read what this guy wrote about this place." Hunter came around the car just as Daryl slammed the hood closed.

"Where'd you get that, honey?" Carol asked as he held up the unlocked book.

"Found it next to the car. But that's not the point. This guy said that this town appeared outta nowhere for him to. He was in Atlanta when he ended up here. When he was here, there wasn't anyone here either. The place was empty, just like now," he explained.

"Every place is empty, kid! Ever since the world went ta hell. Just looks like this place was a little more organized when evacuating than most," Daryl countered.

"But he wrote this in 2001! That was a decade before the walkers. This place doesn't look like it's been empty for 20-some years, Dad! Don't you think that's weird?" Hunter was getting exasperated.

Carol rubbed his back soothingly, trying to calm him. "You're right, that is weird."

He took a deep breath. "There's something else. Can I read this to you?" Carol nodded, encouraging him to go on.

_I was convinced this place was a ghost town when I encountered my first living beings. At least, I thought they were living. I shouted at them and waved as they walked down the street. Then they came after me, shuffling and groaning as quickly as possible. It looked like they were lepers, with great gashes through their flesh and missing limbs in many cases. _

_I am ashamed to admit it but fear overcame me. My scientific curiosity withered. The way they snapped their teeth at me and reached with grasping fingers, I just knew they meant me harm. I fled._

_I ran as fast as I could, dodging through alleyways and buildings. I've never been overly athletic but I felt like I was running for my life. Finally I lost them._

_And then I ran directly into my sister. My dead sister. Now I don't mean she was like those other dead, the walking ones. She was whole and intact. _

_Elizabeth looked just like I remembered her when she'd died. She was 17 and had made the awful decision of getting in a car with a drunk boyfriend. He walked away with a few cuts and a broken wrist. She had her neck snapped._

_Yet, as disconcerting it was to see her right in front of me, that wasn't what made me freeze. Clutched in her hand was the hand of a ten-year-old boy. The boy was me._

_Now I have absolutely no recollection of having been in this town as a child. That leads me to the conclusion that once you leave this place, you most likely have the memory of it erased. I also have this feeling that events that happen here are insignificant, that they would bear no effect on the world outside of this town. For instance, if I were to kill the child version of myself, I doubt he would die back in the real world. I think I would go on living both here and there. Unfortunately, there is no accurate way to successfully test such a hypothesis._

"This guy is bat shit crazy!" Daryl interjected. "Obviously he got the date wrong if he got chased by walkers. Probably meant 2011 instead of 2001. And that was some fucked up shit bout him seein' his dead sister and child self."

Hunter shrugged. "It does seem pretty crazy but I think we better watch ourselves here. This place is fucked up."

Despite his mother's frown at Dixon language slipping out, none of them could argue with that statement.


	9. Chapter 9

Happy New Year's Eve all! I'm at work but hoping to get out soon for a little partying. I know you are all excited about both the Walking Dead and Twilight Zone marathons. If you switch back and forth between them, you may feel like you are in this story!

**Chapter 9 – Peakesville**

Amelia sat in the backseat with her door open while her parents searched along the street for a mechanics. She was glaring at the map. It was wrong, all wrong. They hadn't been driving that long. Based on her calculations according to the scale of the map and how fast her dad had been driving, they shouldn't have been further than central Tennessee. Her finger touched the empty place in the far northwest corner of the state and wondered if any of the others had made it there.

She especially hoped that Judith Grimes had survived the attack. Judy was her best friend, being only a year older than her. She and Judy were always together, even shared a room when Amelia got too old to be in the same room with her twin brother. Judy was a great listener, and would never seem bothered when Amelia would ramble on to her about one subject or another. In fact, Judy rarely talked herself. It wasn't like she was mute or anything but she only spoke up when necessary. She was quieter than Michonne, who tended to choose her words carefully.

Amelia felt like she knew why Judy was so quiet. A couple of years ago, her friend had come to her in tears with a story that had never been shared with any of the children. Judy had been reading in the library, snuggled down into one of the overstuffed armchairs turned so nobody would see her from outside the room. Maggie and Carl were just about to go on watch duty, one going up to the balcony and the other out the door for patrol. They had stopped in the foyer just outside to talk and Judy could hear everything.

_"I swear that the anniversary of her death is today," Carl said, his voice distressed. "Even though we haven't been following the calendar, the season is right." He paused and looked Maggie in the eye. "I can't stop thinking about that day. Last night I dreamed about it. It was in exact detail, like I was reliving it."_

_Maggie put her hand on Carl's arm. "It was a long time ago, Carl."_

_He sighed. "I know. It's just…last night in my sleep I could hear my mom screaming when we cut into her to pull Judith out. Then, when I had to put my mom down before she turned, I felt like I could hear the gun echoing in my ears even after I woke up. And lately, every time I look at Judith, all I can do is see my mother's face and it brings me back to that day all over again. I think I'm losing it."_

_"No, you're not." Maggie's hand gripped his bicep reassuringly. "Carl, nobody else here understands what we went through with your mother's death. It was a horrible situation but it was the best outcome. She wasn't going to make it and we all knew it. All she wanted was for her baby to make it. And Judith did! She is alive and thriving, the best little gardener in this place. Just remember that."_

_"Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just…"_

_Maggie frowned. "Just what?"_

_"She's so quiet. I feel like maybe she was permanently scarred from the trauma of her birth and then all the stuff that went down at the prison," Carl told her._

_"That's ridiculous, Carl," Maggie huffed. "She doesn't remember any of that. She's naturally quiet, like your father. But I think she's strong like him too."_

_"If he really is," Carl muttered, attempting to start up the stairs._

_Maggie quickly grabbed his arm again to halt him. "What did you say? It better not be what I think you just said."_

_Carl turned around. "Sometimes she does things that instantly make me think of Shane. Like when she runs her hand over her head, especially when she's upset or frustrated. Shane did that all the time. And one time she got really mad at me and I swear she sounded just like Shane, except her voice was more high-pitched. She looks so much like my mom that there is no real way to know who her father really is, Shane or my dad."_

_"That's bullshit, Carl. Rick Grimes is that girl's father. He loves her and she loves him and that's all that matters. Shane is dead and gone. There aren't any paternity tests or Maury Show in this world anymore so it doesn't matter one bit what her genetics are. Rick is her dad. Got it?" Maggie asked forcefully. Carl gave her a wary smile and nodded. "Good, because if you plan on marrying my sister, you're going to have to put the past behind you. That's for all our sakes."_

_He nodded again and then hugged her before bounding up the stairs for watch duty._

Judith had learned about how she came into the world along with the question of her parentage all at the same time at the tender age of ten. She'd poured her heart out to Amelia, who of course had never heard this story either. Much of the dark days when the group was at the prison had been glossed over and never told in full detail. Amelia had never heard Judith speak so much at one time and never has since then. Unable to handle all of it herself, she'd brought Hunter in for assistance. Together, they all decided that Rick truly did love Judy and he was going to be her father no matter what they heard from Carl.

Amelia was brought back to reality as Hunter shifted on to the seat next to her. He was engrossed in reading that journal he'd found. The things that man was talking about in this crazy town were very intriguing. Meeting yourself as a child? What if she met herself as an adult? How cool would that be? She hoped that he would lose interest soon and then she'd be able to grab the book off him.

She noticed his slingshot sticking out of his pants and it reminded her of her bow. She cursed herself again for forgetting it. How could she have been so stupid? It had been leaning against the wall right next to her bed. All she had to do was grab it with the quiver of arrows as she ran from the room. She had just been so frantic with grabbing her bag and then smelling the smoke as her mom rushed them along. The gun was good but she wasn't quite as accurate with it.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind swept through the backseat and lifted the map off her lap. The paper was pulled out of the car and wafted through the air. Amelia leapt out after it, knowing there was a very good chance they were going to need to get back to their group. She ran after it, almost catching it when it hit a trashcan. Her fingertips touched it but before she could close her hand over it, the wind caught it again. It danced down the street and around a corner. Darting after it, she knew she almost was on top of it.

**XXXXXXX**

"Amelia! Stop!" Carol cried out, seeing her daughter disappear around a building.

"I got her," Daryl threw over his shoulder since he was closer. Carol watched as he jogged around the corner.

Carol could feel her stomach clenching with them out of sight. To stay calm, she counted slowly, trying to control her breathing. They'd be right back. They probably just had to catch the run-away map. Before she realized what she was doing, she was taking steps towards the intersection. At first they were tentative steps but when they didn't appear, she started running.

When she rounded the corner, it felt like her heart stopped. The street was completely empty. Not a soul was in sight, including the two who should have been there. It was like they were just gone.

"Daryl!" she yelled. "Amelia!" No answer, just blaring silence pounding in her ears. She tried yelling for them again, louder this time. "Daryl! Amelia! Where are you?" Tears were starting to run down her face as she screamed. She ran further down the road, looking in alleyways and trying to pull open doors they might have gone through. All of them were empty.

It felt like she was flashing back to that awful day when Sophia ran into the woods and never came back. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of losing another child. She couldn't lose another child, not like this. Carol had cursed herself for being too weak to go after her daughter that day and the terrible consequences of that action. She wasn't going to let that happen again, not to either of them.

Movement caught her eye in the alleyway across from her. For a moment, she thought it was them coming back this way and she almost smiled as she panted from anxiety. Then she saw it wasn't them. No, it was something much worse.

Walkers.

Her breathing picked up. She slapped her hand over her mouth in an effort to cover the sound of her gasping. It had been years since she'd faced a herd of walkers, even a smaller one like this. Almost unconsciously, she pulled her machete from her belt. Even now, she never went anywhere without it. As soon as the handle was gripped firmly in her hand, she relaxed. It was like her training was kicking in and she knew she could handle this. Hunter was still back at the car and he was vulnerable. One of her children needed to be protected and she wasn't going to fail him.

The walkers had not spotted her yet. They were just moving aimlessly down the alley but still headed in her direction. It was only a matter of seconds before they noticed her. She sent out a silent wish that Daryl find their daughter and protect her from this threat. There was no question in her mind that he would. His tireless search for Sophia when he didn't even know her was what had initially stirred up her feelings for him.

Carol slipped past the building and out of the line of vision of the walkers. Quickly, she headed back to the intersection. For just a moment before she turned the corner, she had this horrible premonition that Hunter would be gone, missing from the car. She had left him alone and it would be her fault if something happened to him. Her throat felt like it was going to close up at the thought.

Yet, there he was. He was still in the backseat, his legs hanging out of the car as he read the journal intently. His body was relaxed, completely unaware of the danger coming towards them as well as the absence of half his family to this god-forsaken town.

"Hunter!" she whispered loudly as she rushed towards the car.

His head came up and he frowned when he looked at her, noting the machete out and ready. The expression on his face reminded her so much of Daryl, it made her heart hurt just thinking about him.

"What happened? Where are they?" he asked as she came up to the car.

Ignoring his question about Daryl and Amelia, she earnestly told him, "Walkers are headed this way. We gotta go now."

Hunter gawked at her, his eyes wide with fright. Then he jumped up as she grabbed his hand. Without thinking, he closed the car door. The sound of it echoed off the empty town, bouncing down the street. The two of them froze, holding their breaths and hoping that it didn't carry down the intersection.

Unfortunately, they were not so lucky. The first one came hurrying around the corner as fast as its broken body could carry it, focusing right on them. Then more and more emerged onto their street, all headed right for them.

"Hunter, run!" she said, her voice urgent as she clutched his arm. He didn't need to be told twice and together, they ran for their lives.


	10. Chapter 10

Happy New Year's Day! From here on out, everybody is in Peakesville, Ohio and it will continue going back and forth between different characters' points-of-view.

**Chapter 10**

Daryl was rudely awakened by a slap to the face. He lashed out blindly at the offending limb, knocking it away from him. That simply earned him a chuckle from Merle.

"Wakey, wakey, little brother! Ya slept in but now I'm hungry so get yer ass outta bed," Merle said as he rocked the cot Daryl was stretched out on. Despite Daryl's protests, they'd ended up spending the night at the bar. There was a cot in the back of the store room surrounded by cases of booze. There were no other doors or windows and it left the room completely black when the door was closed.

Daryl had tried to stay awake all night on watch. He'd paced and worked on cleaning his crossbow and stared out the window frequently. Part of him hoped that Herschel would come back, not caring which version of the man did just so long as he had someone else awake with him in the dead town. Unfortunately, by about 3am he just couldn't keep his eyes open. He'd woken Merle, who seemed more than happy to take over watch. Daryl suspected Merle probably just went back to sleep behind the bar but there wasn't anything he could do about that. He just hoped that if any walkers strolled by, the place would look empty.

"What time is it?" Daryl asked, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Merle left the side of the cot and strolled across the room. "Almost 10am." Then he flipped on the light switch. Daryl wasn't used to fluorescent lighting anymore and it felt like it was burning his eyes as it shone down on him. He groaned loudly and threw his arm over his eyes.

"Damn it, Merle! I told ya I wanted ta get movin' at dawn!" Daryl yelled as he leapt of the cot. "I wanna get outta this fucking town!" He pulled on his boots quickly and then swung the crossbow over his shoulder. Merle was still smiling at him and Daryl felt annoyance flash through him.

"Aww, come on baby brother. Ya know ya need yer beauty sleep or else ya get cranky," Merle laughed. Daryl sneered at him, having a suspicion that Merle slept right through the sunrise.

They decided to go back to the café down the street for food instead of search for a different place to eat. It seemed like everything was still fresh, which they decided not to question since they were both hungry and hunting didn't seem like a viable option at the moment. They ate in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

Afterwards, they walked outside and surveyed the town again. Daryl was looking for a way back to the forest. He was pretty sure if he could find approximately the same place they entered the town, he could track them back to quarry. As far as he was concerned, he wasn't going to tell anyone about the fucked-up place. He briefly wondered if anyone at the camp noticed their absence. They'd probably assume the redneck brothers ran off but wouldn't they be suspicious that Merle left his bike behind?

A loud crashing noise behind him disturbed his thoughts. He spun around and saw that Merle had taken one of the chairs out of the cafe and smashed it through the passenger side window of a nearby car. Daryl couldn't help to notice that it was a Merecedes Benz. Merle always preferred to travel in style.

"What the fuck ya doin'? You tryin' ta make enough noise ta draw every walker over here?" Daryl warned him as he walked over to the car as Merle flipped the automatic locks off.

"Don't ya think it might be nice ta have a ride around this town? Might make it faster to find our way outta here," he said as he traveled around to the driver's door and settled in the seat. Then Daryl watched as he stripped the covering off the steering wheel column and used the butt of his pistol to loosen the ignition. He knew that Merle could hotwire a car but he'd never actually seen his brother put that skill to use. With a degree of fascination, he watched as Merle deftly matched, cut and twisted wires together with the knowledge of years of practice.

Then he stopped suddenly, frowning. He twisted another wire and paused again. Nothing. Throwing down the wires, he growled, "This car is a piece of shit!" Leaping out the Merecades Benz, he grabbed the chair and ran across the street. Daryl rolled his eyes as his brother smashed the window of a Toyota Camry. He didn't even bother cautioning him about attracting walkers again because he knew it wouldn't make any difference.

Merle attacked the steering column of this car with more ferocity than the last one. Yet, for all his ministrations of the wires, the car refuses to start. "Shit! None of these cars is workin'," Merle yelled out as he kicked at the Camry in frustration.

Daryl just watched his brother, a little grin on his lips at his brother's antics. When Merle gave the car one final kick, Daryl asked, "Ya finished yer hissy fit there?"

Merle flipped him off and leaned against the newly-dented door. "You got any better ideas, Einstein?"

"Einstein?" Daryl gave his brother a funny look. "Didn't think ya'd even know who that was."

Merle huffed at him. "Stop bein' such a smartass. How're we gonna get out of this god-forsaken town? Huh?"

Daryl squinted as he slowly examined the buildings around him. Then he stopped and pointed at the tall apartment building several blocks down and over from their current position.

"There. We get up on the roof and figure out how to get outta here from above," Daryl told him with confidence. Merle nodded and they started off in that direction.

Merle walked like he owned the place, not a care in the world that a herd of walkers could appear around any corner. Daryl, on the other hand, walked cautiously behind his brother. He had the crossbow loaded and ready in his hand but kept pointed at the ground until a threat appeared.

As Merle was right about to go around a corner to the street with the apartment building, a small figure almost walked right into him. He gasped and jumped in surprise. The figure was a young girl, who squeaked and scrambled backwards. She reached behind her and pulled out a gun, training it right on them. Despite the frightened look on her face, she held the gun steady and flicked off the safety. Her finger was not on the trigger though.

"Woah, little lady! Careful with that thing," Merle told her, his hands up in a defensive position. The girl's eyes shifted from Merle to Daryl standing behind him. He'd brought the crossbow up but his finger also remained off the trigger.

"Dad!" she cried and the gun went down as she took a few steps towards them.

Daryl's attention had been focused on the pistol aimed at them but that shifted up to the girl herself. "I ain't yer daddy," he spat out automatically. Yet, the moment he really took in her features, he wondered if the words he'd stated so surely really were true.

The girl looked about twelve or thirteen years old, just starting to begin the transformation into puberty. Her limbs appeared to be lengthening, giving her a lanky appearance. Her hair was dirty blond, shoulder length and wavy. But it was her face that made him doubt his own words. Her mouth, nose and the shape of her face were exactly like his. Unlike Merle, Daryl strongly resembled their mother and this girl instantly made him think of her.

However, her eyes were not his. They came from someone else. She looked at him with those eyes, so wide and blue. He felt mesmerized by them and his subconscious instantly recognized them. It was just yesterday that he'd been so enchanted by those very same blue eyes. Yet, his conscious mind couldn't quite wrap itself around the concept that those eyes suggested. He just stood there frozen as those blue eyes took all of him in and narrowed in response.

She took a few steps backwards, bringing the gun back up again. "You're right. You're not my dad."

Merle had also gone silent as he scrutinized her. Daryl knew that Merle was seeing the exact same impossible blend of facial features that he was. But in this situation, Merle recovered faster than Daryl. He slowly lowered his hands but kept them away from his own piece.

"No worries, darlin'. We ain't gonna hurt ya. What's yer name?" he asked her in as gentle voice as Merle was capable of.

The girl seemed to ponder that question before taking a deep breath and answering him. "Amelia."

"Well hello, Amelia," Merle smiled brightly at her. "My name's Merle and that disagreeable fellow behind me is ma brother Daryl." He half-bowed to her with the introductions.

She smirked at him, one corner of her mouth turning up. Daryl almost fell over at the familiarity of the expression. "I know."

"Then ya know we won't hurt ya. Why dontcha put that gun away?" Merle suggested. Amelia looked down at the gun in her hand. She lowered the gun but didn't put it back into her waistband.

"What's yer last name?" Daryl interjected, his voice hoarse as he continued trying to process the significance of her existence.

She studied him with those eyes again. "Don't you already know?" she asked him coyly, the half-smile back on her lips. Daryl just stared at her, believing that she was right. He knew her last name was Dixon.

"Amelia!" a familiar rough voice yelled out from behind her. They all turned to watch as her father strolled quickly towards them. Daryl looked almost the same except for a couple tell-tale signs of his age, a few streaks of grey in his hair and the lines running deeper in his face. His body was still fit and muscular and his grip of the crossbow was firm.

The younger Daryl took a few steps backwards, his brain in overload. He should have known something like this could happen in the hell of this town after meeting the two Herschels but seeing an older version of himself was freaking him out. He couldn't speak, having enough trouble keeping himself from bolting out of there.

The older man positioned himself between his daughter and the two men from another time. He studied them fully with narrow, suspicious eyes before turning his back on them. His hand touched her shoulder, trying to gently to turn her away. "Let's go," he told her.

Yet she resisted him. Her body twisted slightly away from him. "But dad, look!" she said firmly as she nodded towards Merle and his younger self. "It's you!"

"No, it ain't!" he spat out. He glanced back at them before dismissing them again. He tried again to guide her away.

She paused again, her eyes searching around him with concern. "Where's mom and Hunter?" she asked with a hint of panic in her voice for the first time since the beginning of the encounter. The younger Daryl registered her words in his head. She was here. The mother of these children was here. The mother of _his_ children.

"We're gonna go find them and then get back on the road," he assured her. "Now come on."

"Hey baby brother!" Merle called out to the man that was now chronologically a couple years older than him. "Ya ain't gonna at least say hello?"

Daryl whirled around back at them, getting in Merle's face. "Shut up!" he roared before lowering his voice to a dangerous low tone. "You two ain't nothin' but ghosts. You stay the fuck away from us!" With that, he twisted back around and grabbed his daughter by the wrist. "Amelia, now!"

Knowing her father meant business, she went with him willingly. As he stomped away, she looked back at them over her shoulder, her big blue eyes obviously conveying that she wasn't ready to leave them yet. She was intrigued by them just as they were intrigued by her.

"Yo Daryl! Havin' trouble with yer car?" Merle sniggered at his retreating back. The older Daryl simply flipped him the middle finger without turning back. That didn't deter Merle though. "Don't ya think we should stick together in this fucking town?" Daryl ignored him as he pulled Amelia around the corner. Then they were both gone.

The younger Daryl breathed out heavily, almost like the disappearance of them had released him from a spell that had kept him rooted to the ground. He leaned against the brick wall behind him and rubbed a hand across his face wearily.

Merle leaned against the wall next to him. "Shit, man, I gotta say it. You're still an asshole but yer kid is cute."

"Fuck you," Daryl muttered. He wasn't in the mood for Merle's bullshit after what he'd just experienced.

"My point exactly," Merle laughed. Then he smacked his brother in the chest. "Looks like ya finally found a woman who showed ya how ta use the dick ya been neglecting all these years."

"Jesus Christ, Merle! Will ya just shut the fuck up!" Daryl blasted at him as he rolled off the wall away from him.

Still cackling, Merle pushed off the wall. "Come on, I betcha we can find yer woman before he can," he said and dragged Daryl off down the now empty street.


	11. Chapter 11

Huge thanks to everyone reading this! I know it is out there but a really appreciate you giving it a chance. I love all of you readers, followers, favoriters and, especially, reviewers.

**Chapter 11**

There was a little bit of a breeze as they stood on the roof of the tallest building in the area. It had once been a luxury apartment with a lavish penthouse taking up the top two floors. Merle had already mentioned that he intended to spend the night there. Daryl was still hoping to wake up from this nightmare back in his tent at the quarry. He didn't want to think about spending another night in this fucked up town.

"Shit, this would be a lot easier if we hadda pair a binoculars," Merle grumbled. He had his hand on his forehead, screening his eyes from the midday sun as he searched the landscape below.

Daryl ignored him. He wasn't really looking for his future family. His head would start pounding when he thought of the girl, Amelia. No, instead he focused on something wholly irrelevant. His hair.

At the moment his hair was fairly short. Whenever it grew long enough to start getting in his eyes, it would get so fucking annoying. He'd been going to this one barber since he was a teenager. The guy was a surly asshole and his shop was a disgusting hole in the wall. Yet, he'd never changed his cheap prices and gave a good haircut so Daryl had kept going to him. He almost chuckled at the thought that the man changing into a walker wouldn't make too much of a difference in his personality.

So why the hell would he let his hair grow over his damn eyes like that? Did they lose all the scissors when the walkers came? He knew it was so trivial but it was pissing him off.

"Hey, I think I see somethin'," Merle said animatedly, motioning Daryl over without actually turning around. Daryl had to admit that he was a little perplexed with Merle's attitude. He seemed so intent on finding the other half of Daryl's family before his older self did. Daryl suspected that it had something to do with the contents of the little bag stuffed in his front pocket. Must have been the good stuff for Merle to be so happy. He wasn't looking forward to it running out because Merle became a mean son of a bitch when he was coming down.

Following Merle's finger pointing a few blocks over, he saw a few gimpy walkers turn down an alley. It was difficult to see down into the alley from their vantage point but it appeared like there was a build-up of walkers within. What where they so focused on?

"I bet my right hand that yer woman's down in that alley. Probably yer other kid, Hunter, too." Merle was excited then frowned as he looked closer. "Looks like she might need some manly assistance down there."

Daryl hated to agree with his older brother but as a few more walkers seemed to squeeze their way into the small space, he began to feel a sense of urgency to get down there. If the other half of his family was in there, there was no way he was going to abandon them to the walking dead, especially since his older self was nowhere in sight. Flashing a look at Merle, the two of them flew off the roof and down the several flights of stairs to the street.

The crossbow was loaded and Merle had his gun out. A bolt flew through the head of the walker at the back of the pack almost silently. Daryl was able to reload twice and take out a couple more before the ones around them started to notice there was fresh meat behind them. Merle's gun roared as Daryl swung the crossbow over his shoulder and pulled out his hunting knife.

As they thinned out the pack, Daryl was able to see the other end of the alley. There she was. Part of him already knew it was her. He didn't understand how it had happened. How could he, redneck, crass, untouchable Daryl Dixon end up with meek, subservient Carol Peletier? Yet, as he watched her across the alley, he saw that the woman in front of him was not meek or subservient. Her hair was longer, almost touching her shoulders as it swept outwards. She was fit, her clothes tighter than when he'd seen her in down at the quarry. The outfit of simple jeans and a tank top showed off curves he never knew she had. She moved like a dancer as she continuously slammed a sharpened machete through walkers' heads as they came at her.

A small stone soared past her, catching Daryl's eye. That's when he noticed the boy just behind her.

_Hunter._

He had a slingshot out and was flinging rocks in the faces of walkers as they tried to get near them. His aim was decent, hitting about three-quarters of the ones he shot at. Most of them had rotted enough that the stones were able to penetrate right through to the brain. Unfortunately, there were a few fresher ones that were only stunned when the stone bounced off of them.

If he thought the girl's resemblance to him was unquestionable, it was even more obvious with the boy. The two appeared to be about the same age. If they weren't true fraternal twins then they had to be Irish twins. The mouth and nose were the same but as the boy neared puberty, his jaw was becoming more chiseled than his sister. Daryl recognized a hint of Merle suggested in that jaw even though the rest of the features leaned towards him. Except for the eyes, of course. Those blue orbs came from her.

This was his son.

Watching as they defended themselves against the monsters attacking them, he couldn't help but be distracted for a moment. He jumped as the loud gun blast echoed so close to him that he felt the spray of gore against the side of his exposed neck. A walker he hadn't noticed coming up on his side fell at his feet.

"Hey dumbass! Get yer head in the fuckin' game!" Merle yelled at him as he shoved the now empty pistol into his waistband. A wicked long knife came out of the sheath at his hip. Daryl nodded his thanks to his brother and then set to work at dispatching the remaining walkers between him and his family.

As Daryl plunged his knife through the chin of a huge black walker to hit the brainstem, Carol decapitated a walker that had once been an elderly woman with a bun of grey hair at the back of her decaying head. It bounced along the ground, its jaws still snapping as it came to rest just in front of Merle. With an evil smirk, Merle used his boot to punt the hungry head out of the alley. Now only the living inhabited that area.

The two sides eyed each other over the sea of gore. Then Hunter got a good luck at the man with the crossbow on his back that had come to their rescue.

"Dad!" he cried out happily and started across the fallen bodies towards Daryl.

Carol's eyes went wide with panic. "Hunter, stop!" she cried as she grabbed the collar of his shirt. He was pulled back into her arms and it almost seemed like she was trying to use her own body to protect him for the confusing sight before her. "That's not your Dad," she told him. "Not yet, at least."

Merle waved happily at them. "Looked liked ya needed a little help here."

Carol straightened up but her hands remained on Hunter's shoulders. His eyes stayed right on Daryl, not blinking. It was like he was being studied by this boy and he felt somewhat uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

"Thank you," Carol spoke out clearly. "The help was much appreciated." Her big blue eyes were steady, holding first Merle's gaze and then Daryl's. He found himself looking away but it made him realize just how much this woman had changed. At the quarry, she almost never made eye contact with anyone.

A large grin lit up Merle's face. "Anytime darlin'! Yer man told us ta stay away from ya but we couldn't leave ya ta fight off all them geeks by yerselves."

"You saw Daryl?" she gasped. Her eyes slipped over to Daryl again and he made himself hold her gaze this time.

"Oh yeah, he was just as much of an asshole as his younger self over here," Merle commented as he indicated Daryl. His little brother gave him a dirty look.

A young voice spoke up. "What about Amelia? Was my sister with him?" Everyone looked at Hunter, who seemed to shrink a little into Carol at all the attention. Hunter was usually the sneaky, silent type but he needed to know about his twin.

Merle actually gave the boy a genuine smile. "Yep," he assured him. "She was by her lonesome at first but then her daddy showed up and gave us what for. I will say, she knows how ta handle a firearm."

Carol breathed out a sigh of relief. "He found her. Oh, thank god." Her eyes closed for just a moment in relief.

Daryl was having a hard time trying to figure out what to do in that moment. Part of him just wanted to run away from all of them, away from all the confusion. He wanted to be in the forest where everything made sense to him. However, there was another part of him that never wanted to take his eyes off of her. He couldn't find his voice, which was not unusual when he felt out of his element. Despite the worry about what would come out of his mouth, he was thankful that Merle seemed to be taking control of the situation.

"If ya like, we can take ya to where we saw 'em last," Merle offered. It was unlikely that they would still be there because people seemed to just disappear in this crazy-ass town. Nonetheless, he agreed with Merle that it was better for them to stick together. Maybe they could even find Herschel again, either version of him.

At first she seemed conflicted. She looked at the ground and then back at Daryl. He didn't know what to say to encourage her that they were not a danger to her. Instead of speaking, he merely tilted his head towards her. It seemed like she understood the gesture. Carol nodded in agreement and took Hunter's hand as they strode across the dead walker bodies.

Suddenly, a putrefying hand lashed out and gripped Carol's boot. It must have been one that had been stunned by a stone from Hunter's slingshot but had not actually penetrated into the brain. Carol screamed and tried to wrench her leg away. Unfortunately, the thing hung on with tenacity and Carol lost her balance. They all watched in horror as she fell backwards, her body colliding with the hard ground and her head hitting with a loud thunk.

The walker started pulling itself up, still holding tightly to Carol's boot. Hunter had cried out when his mother had fallen but now he pulled out his small knife. He looked about ready to plunge it into the walker getting closer.

In that instant, Daryl moved purely on instinct. He sprinted over the rancid field of bodies in front of him, his own knife ready. Before the walker could get any nearer to his son, he was there, his knife sliding through the top of the skull of what had once been a prominent business man. Hunter watched in surprise as Daryl lifted an unconscious Carol in his arms.

He sprinted past him to a bench just outside the alley and gently laid Carol down upon it. She seemed to be coming around, groaning out as her hand went to her head.

"Lemme see," Daryl said, pushing her hand away as he very slightly lifted her head. He felt around and felt bad when she winced. "Think yer gonna live," he told her, his voice gruff. "Just gonna be a nice bruise there and probably a wicked headache."

"Daryl…" she whispered, her eyes appearing hazy as she looked at him. Her hand reached out and her finger stroked along his cheek. He flinched; he couldn't help it no matter how good her touch felt.

His cringing away from her seemed to make her focus better. She blinked a couple times and then sat up. He put a hand awkwardly on her shoulder to try to help her. "Thanks," she mumbled. By then, Hunter and Merle had already made it over to them.

"You okay, Mom?" Hunter asked anxiously. "That thing didn't scratch you, did it?"

Carol held up her foot and they all examined her boot. It had definitely scratched the leather but had not broken through to her flesh. "Nope. Looks like you're stuck with me, kid."

Hunter smiled brightly then said, "I guess I'll keep ya." He wrapped his arms around his mom in a grateful hug.

"Time ta move, people," Merle told them as he inspected the streets around them. There was always the possibility of more walkers headed their way, especially considering they did use a gun. Best to be out of the area.

Carol pushed off the bench but then immediately sat back down again. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her but she was focused directly on the boot that had been damaged by the walker. She frowned then turned her ankle, wincing in the process. Without a second thought, Daryl was on his knees in front of her, pulling the boot off her foot. All of them cringed seeing the skin bruised an angry purple.

"Fuck, that bastard had quite a grip," Merle remarked. "Can ya walk?"

Hunter spoke up. "You can lean on me, mama,"

Daryl couldn't help cracking a smile at the kid. "Yer a little short. She'd be leanin' on yer head. Here," he said as he helped lift her onto her good leg. His arm snaked across her back and held her around her waist. She was light and he had no problem supporting her weight as she hobbled along.

He glanced down at her face, concerned he might be holding her too hard. Instead, she smiled up at him. It was the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen.


	12. Chapter 12

Happy snow day to everyone like me that is buried in the fluffy white stuff!

**Chapter 12**

Amelia wrenched her wrist out of her father's grip. Both of them stared each other down with the exact same scowl on their faces. It might have been comical to any observers just how similar they looked when they were pissed off.

"What the hell was that?" Amelia questioned him.

"That was us gettin' outta a bad situation," he retorted.

Her expression was one of surprise. "What bad situation? That was you and Uncle Merle! It was just like what that Milton guy described in that journal Hunter found. They could have helped us find Mom and Hunter!"

Daryl shook his head. "I ain't havin' this conversation with ya, Amelia," he told her through gritted teeth. "All I'm gonna say is that people can change. I don't wantcha around men like them."

Amelia gave him a funny look. She didn't know a lot about her dad's past. Usually if she ever asked, he'd just tell her that you've got to live in the here and now. When she'd been a young child, she'd seen him with his shirt off and had asked him about all the white lines on his body. His face had turned bright red and her mom had said that he'd had a difficult childhood; nothing she or Hunter would ever have to worry about. Amelia had even gone so far as to ask her Uncle Merle about it but all he'd say was that their daddy had been an asshole and if her daddy ever acted like that, he'd beat his baby brother's ass. Uncle Merle had liked to curse a lot, even more than her dad. Sadly, he died not long after that.

"What kind of men are they?" she asked in a small voice.

He sighed loudly. "Just let it go, kid." His eyes darted around and then focused behind her. A small smile came to his lips. "Besides, I think I just found the perfect thing to get yer mind offa them."

Amelia wheeled around, no clue as to what might be behind them for her. Then she saw it and almost giggled. A huge sporting goods store stood off to the left side of the street. There had to be a new bow in there!

Together they rushed over to the front doors. Daryl figured they'd have to break through the glass but it was actually unlocked already. The door opened nice and easy for them. He went in front of her, his crossbow up and ready in case of any threat. They had not run into any walkers yet but this place was so strange, Daryl wasn't taking any chances. He made Amelia stay right by him as he inspected every aisle cautiously. Nothing seemed disturbed. Even the lights worked when they found the switches, brightening the store instantly.

"Here ya go," Daryl said as he slid open the case containing the most expensive bows. He handed her the one that matched her size the best and she was practically jumping up and down in excitement. "Calm down, girl," he admonished her but couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm. "Now, go over there and get a whole bunch a those arrows and a quiver. Doubt yer gonna get time ta make yer own any time soon. I'm gonna load up all these guns and ammo. Can't let this good shit go ta waste."

As Daryl began shoving weapons into a large duffle bag he'd found in another aisle, Amelia ventured over to the section with the arrows. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her jump. She almost screamed but was able to clamp her jaw shut before she made another sound.

A girl stood against the back emergency exit door. She was young, looking practically the same age as Amelia. Her hair was a lighter shade of blond and her skin slightly paler. She was frightened, her blue eyes wide and teary. Amelia instantly felt bad for her.

"Are you okay?" she asked the girl once she got over the scare of seeing another person she wasn't expecting in the empty store. The girl took a step away from her, looking like she was about to bolt out the door. "Hey, it's okay. Are you lost?"

She looked so unsure, so nervous. She bit her bottom lip and Amelia was worried she was going to draw blood. But then she spoke in the quietest whisper.

"I lost my doll."

Amelia tilted her head at such a curious response. Then she took a step towards the girl. "Maybe we can help you find it." She took another step closer.

It was too much. The blond girl panicked and scampered out the emergency door. The alarm went off like a wailing siren through the entire store for two seconds. Her hands flew over her ears from the unbelievably loud noise. Then the door shut and the alarm went silent.

"What the fuck's goin' on?" Daryl yelled out as he came bolting around into the aisle. His crossbow was at the ready and the duffle bag bulging with guns and ammo was slung on his back. His eyes raked over his daughter, assessing for any injuries or bites.

"There was a girl! She ran out that door when I tried to talk to her!" Amelia pointed at the emergency exit.

Daryl relaxed a bit, realizing that there was no real danger threatening them. "A girl?" he asked.

"Yeah. She looks about my age and had blond hair. But it was lighter than mine and Hunter's. She had on this blue shirt with a rainbow on it that looked all dirty, like she'd slept in the woods or something. Told me she lost her doll before she ran away," Amelia explained.

She was right about to ask if they should follow her but closed her mouth when she saw her dad freeze up. All the color seemed to leave his face. It was a reaction she almost never saw from him and it made her nervous.

"Grab yer bow 'n arrows. We're goin' after her," he announced and then went right out the emergency door. She was more prepared for the alarm sounding this time as she followed him outside behind the store. It went off a second later when the door slammed shut behind her.

"Sophia!" Daryl called out.

Amelia stared at him with an incredulous look on her face. "Sophia? You mean my sister who died when she got lost in the woods?" Now she was uncertain of what she'd seen, trying to analyze every detail in her memory of the brief encounter with the frightened girl.

He glanced at her. "Yeah." His eyes dart around the space behind the store. Another store back faced them with a flat door without a handle to open it. To the right was a chain-link fence, which she could probably have climbed over but there was not enough time between when she left the store and when they came after her. To the left was an alley, the only direction she could have gone. "Come on."

Together, they ran down the alley, very much hoping to find the lost little girl. Both Hunter and Amelia had wanted to hear stories as they were growing up about their lost sister. Both siblings regretted never getting the chance to meet her. Could this weirdo town make that happen?

They emerged from the alley onto the main street, which was empty. Both of them looked around frantically but there were too many doors and streets she could have run down to escape them.

"Sophia!" Daryl tried again.

"Sophia! We can help you! Please come back!" Amelia yelled into the air. There was no response.

Then Amelia thought she saw something far down the street. She squinted, trying to make out the moving form. "Wait! Is that her?" she questioned, pointing in that direction. Daryl squinted too, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

It only took a moment for the forms to resolve themselves into people. It wasn't Sophia. Instead they saw Merle walking next to Hunter and Daryl helping Carol to walk with his arm around her.

"Mama!" Amelia cried happily and burst into a sprint towards them. Carol broke into a huge smile and let go of Daryl. She hobbled a few steps forward and caught her oncoming daughter. The force of Amelia's hug almost knocked her off her feet again.

"Easy now, kiddo!" Carol laughed as she caught herself from falling. "Already hurt myself falling once today."

Amelia drew back, frowning. "What happened?"

Carol gave a little self-deprecating laugh. "It was stupid. I wasn't watching where I was walking and this walker-" Her words cut off abruptly when she glanced up at her husband.

Daryl was staring daggers into his younger self, who was staring right back with a defiant look on his face. The blood was rushing through the older man's ears as red clouded his vision with rage. He didn't hear anything that was being said. All he focused on was that his wife was hurt and that his younger self had put his hands on her. It was a completely irrational reaction but he was overwhelmed with the emotion.

"You hurt her? You put your fuckin' hands on her?" Daryl roared. In an instant, he was diving towards the target of his anger. The younger man anticipated the punch and was able to side step it somewhat. Daryl's fist still landed on his jaw but much of the force had been taken out of it with the change of angle.

The two of them went down on the ground wrestling. Neither of them could seem to get the upper hand. Not only were they equally matched with strength and speed, they could predict what moves the other was going to make. A lot of their frustrations over the complexities of the situation they were in seemed to be coming out as they fought. It had been the Dixon way for years.

"Daryl, stop it!" Carol screamed at them, technically trying to get through to both of them at the same time. She turned to Merle. "Stop laughing and do something!"

Merle had been highly amused watching his brother fighting with himself. He was standing there chuckling at them rolling around on the ground. Meanwhile, the twins were gaping at their father fighting. They'd only rarely gotten glimpses of his anger and he'd never fought like this with anyone at the compound.

"Fine," Merle muttered. In a loud commanding voice, he said, "Okay boys, get the hell off each other! We got shit ta do!" To make sure his directive was followed, he swiftly kicked each of them hard. The older man got it in the back while the younger man got it in the solar plexus. That was enough to break up the fight.

The older Daryl turned over, clutching at his lower back as he slowly climbed to his feet. "Fuck, Merle! I think ya busted ma kidney," he complained. The younger man was still on the ground gasping. He was trying to catch his breath from the blow to his mid-section.

"Stop actin' like such a whiny asshole. Yer woman got inta a tangle with some walkers and we was just helpin' her. This town is fucked up and we gotta work tagether ta get outta here," Merle emphasized.

Daryl was on his feet now, slightly hunched from his injured back. He narrowed his eyes at Merle. "No," he stated firmly.

Carol limped over to him. The younger man, who was just starting to breath normally, got back on his own feet. He watched the two look into each other's eyes, seeming to communicate without words. Her hand reached out towards him and he was sure that his older self would flinch away from the contact. That's what he would have done with such intimacy. Carol laid her hand on his chest, fingers splayed out over his pounding heart. Instead of flinching, he laid his own hand on top of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Daryl," Carol spoke softly. "We need help. This place…it's wrong. You and Amelia went around a corner and just disappeared. Then the walkers came. I'm not sure if Hunter and I would have been able to fight that many off if these two hadn't come to help us. We're better off with more people if we all stay together. Please," she pleaded with him.

He shook his head. "No, not with them," he said defiantly.

Now Carol looked suspicious. She glanced back at Merle and the man that would one day become her husband. "Why?" she asked.

Daryl pulled away from her and took a somewhat menacing step towards Merle. "Look at his hands, Carol!" He pointed with force.

Now everyone else was looking at Merle's hands, including Merle himself. "What the fuck's wrong with ma hands?" Merle asked, flipping his hands over as he carefully examined them.

Carol didn't even bother looking. "I know. I can see."

Merle was now really weirded out about his hands. "What'd ya see? I don't see nothin'!"

The two of them ignored him. Daryl continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "They're from before Rick came to the camp!"

"So? What difference does that make?" Carol questioned.

"The difference is that Merle is high as a kite right now! And I..." He paused, seeming to find the right words. When they came, he spoke them rapidly, like he was trying to get all their poison out of him at once. "I was gonna help him rob that camp! Don't ya understand what kinda people we were back then? We were gonna take all yer food and guns. We were gonna just leave ya ta the walkers, not carin' if ya'll got taken down. That's who I was back then!"

He spun around, not wanting to look at any of them after such a declaration. Carol put her hand on his shoulder and this time he did flinch a little. "It's okay," she said softly. "I already know."

He whirled back around at that. "What? How?"

She shrugged. "Merle told me, years ago. It was back when the kids were babies and he was helping me while you were on watch. We got to talkin' about the quarry and how you two got to be there. He told me everything."

Daryl sighed heavily and it almost seemed like the anger washed out of him with that breath. In a strained voice he said, "Damn it, Carol. I didn't want ya ta know bout that." He was ashamed of himself.

"It doesn't matter now. I know you are a good man and I love you." With that stated, she put a little more force into her voice. "Now I need you to stop acting like an asshole to yourself." He couldn't help cracking a smile at that. Her rare cursing always elicited amused him.

Merle stepped forward, a serious look on his face. He'd given up trying to figure out what was wrong with his hands. "Listen, man. We all know yer right bout everything ya said. But yer kin. Don't matter how old ya get, yer always gonna be ma little brother. And if this is yer woman, then hell! That makes her like a sister ta me. And these two," he said, pointing to Amelia and Hunter, who'd been watching all this go on silently. "There ain't nobody on this planet who can say they ain't yours. I mean, just look at 'em! So ya know that means that we'd protect 'em until the end. You know that," he emphasized.

Daryl's eyes dart between Merle and his younger self. Finally, he relented. "Fine. We can stick together. But don't fuck it up, either of ya."


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry this is so late! I ended up working today to make up for yesterday's snow day. Enjoy!

**Chapter 13**

Everyone seemed to visibly relax after the big confrontation between Daryl and his younger counterpart. It appeared as if he truly believed the words Merle spoke, that he would protect Carol and the kids until his dying breath. Even if none of them said it, they all knew that that was exactly how he'd left this world. He'd died proving that point and it earned him their trust now despite the fact that he was high.

It was decided that since the day was coming to a close, they better find accommodations for the night. Because Daryl and Merle had already scoped it out, they suggested taking over the penthouse on the top floors of the apartment building. There was plenty of room and it was out of reach of the walkers. The doors could easily be jimmied to lock, both on the ground floor as well as the entrance to the actual apartment. There was even a balcony if they wanted to watch duty. The decision was unanimously agreed upon to occupy the penthouse as long as they were in Peakesville.

The silence became somewhat awkward as they were walking towards the tall building. Usually Carol was fine with the silence but the children seemed a little nervous because of it. She struggled to try to find a topic that wouldn't upset anyone. Luckily, the pressure was relieved when the most unlikely person spoke up.

"So what kinda crossbow is that?" the younger Daryl asked of his older self.

Daryl glanced at him for a moment, like it was a trick. But then he seemed to notice how the younger man was closely examining the weapon strapped to his back. It peaked his own interest so he swung it around into his hands.

"Just picked it up a little while ago and still getting' used to it. But it's got some nice features ma last one didn't." He proceeded to go into a lengthy discussion about the pros and cons of his particular crossbow. Several members of the party had their eyes glaze over as he talked but the younger Daryl was entranced. Daryl even let him test it out, aiming at a telephone pole down the street. It hit right in the center, head high.

Amelia took that moment to speak up. "Um, Mama?" Carol turned towards her expectantly. Daryl was behind his wife and suddenly frowned at his daughter.

"Yes, sweetie?" Carol prompted her.

"When we were looking for you, we found-" She stopped suddenly when her father started silently shaking his head. He mouthed the word "no" to her. Her expression faltered when she realized he was telling her to keep quiet about their possible encounter with Sophia. What if they never saw her again here? Her mom might get her hopes up at seeing her lost daughter again and it may never happen. Her dad was right about keeping quiet. She cursed herself for saying anything at all.

"What is it? What did you find?" Carol asked, frowning now at the look on Amelia's face. Hunter was watching his sister and father's silent exchange suspiciously but he kept his mouth shut, as he always did. The younger Daryl was too absorbed in studying the crossbow and Merle just looked bored.

She almost winced trying to think of something to say. "Umm…We found…a sporting goods store!" she finally blurted out. "And I got a new bow and arrows!" She held it up triumphantly.

"That's wonderful! Looks just as good as your old bow," Carol commented.

"It's better than the old one!" Amelia said excitedly. She had almost forgotten about this amazing find.

Daryl smiled at her. "Hey, ya'll wanna see what she can do with it?" Neither Merle nor the younger Daryl looked overly interested. Merle just shrugged but at least Daryl's younger self lowered the crossbow and nodded.

Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he scoped out the surrounding structures. "Okay, 'Melia. Knot in the wood paneling of the building. Support beam, six feet high. Middle slat of the park bench. Telephone pole, three feet high." He took a quick look around him and then swiped an empty disposable coffee cup out of the trashcan. "Last yer gonna hit this mid-air. Ya get ten seconds. Got it?"

"No fuckin' way," Merle grunted under his breath. The younger Daryl's full attention was on the girl now.

Amelia nodded confidently. She rolled her head on her neck, flexing her shoulders in preparation. Her hands gripped the bow and she spread her legs just a little into a firm stance. She took a deep breath and held it.

"Go!" Daryl yelled and started counting softly. Amelia whipped into action.

_Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!_

Daryl finished counting to 10 as the coffee cup skidded across the road, punctured with an arrow.

"Holy shit!" Merle exclaimed. The younger man looked seriously impressed.

"Nice shootin', kid," Daryl complimented her with a high-five as she went by him to collect her arrows.

"Yeah, good job, sis. Guess you won't be needing this anymore," Hunter told her as he held up the pistol.

They all gaped at him. Amelia's hands flew to her waistband, which was now empty.

"Jesus, Hunter. How the hell do you do that?" his sister demanded. Hunter just shrugged and slipped the gun into his own waistband. He was not one to divulge his secrets.

Merle started laughing. "Yo, baby brother! Ya sure this one ain't mine?"

That elicited a scowl from both Daryls as well as a giggle from Carol. "Only in your dreams, Merle," Carol said as she ruffled Hunter's hair.

After that, the silence was much more comfortable as they walked across a few more streets to get to the apartment building. Everyone was lost in their own individual thoughts about their futures and their pasts. Daryl had his arm slung around Carol to help her walk but she was already limping less. The content look on her face was conveying that she more so liked just having him holding her. The younger Daryl kept swiping glances at them, as if he never believed he'd be able to touch a woman like that.

Once they reached the apartment building, they found that every door was unlocked. That seemed to be the norm in this town, along with the electricity and water functioning. In no time they had the master keys from the manager's office and locked the place up tight for the night. Hunter seemed a little disappointed that he couldn't show off more of his master thief skills.

Up on the top floors, the penthouse was theirs for the taking. Merle led them in, bursting through the front door like he owned the place.

"Honey, I'm home!" he yelled out. Both Daryls cringed, thinking his obnoxious voice was going attract any walker within hearing distance. Merle didn't seem to care as he tramped across the custom-designed hardwood floor and plopped down on the plush leather sofa. "Damn, this is livin'." He grabbed the remote control off the coffee table and flipped on the huge flat screen TV taking up the whole back wall. Unfortunately, only static came on. "Shit. Guess it woulda been too good ta be true if I coulda seen one more skin flick."

"Merle!" Carol admonished, her eyes glancing at the children.

However, they hadn't even noticed the conversation. The two of them seemed entranced with the decor. Despite the fact that they had been raised in a true mansion, it had been simpler and more practical in its decorating style. This place was the exact opposite, leaning towards the ostentatious baroque style. They were captivated by the cut crystals of the giant chandelier hanging in the entrance way. It was catching the light of the setting sun and throwing out tiny rainbows around the room.

With a burst of excitement, Amelia raced into the living room with Hunter close on her heels. The two of them landed on the other side of the sofa from Merle, bouncing up and down.

"I get first pick on bedrooms!" Hunter exclaimed and headed to the stairs. Daryl caught him by the arm before he could get past the foyer.

"Hold yer horses, kid. We gotta make sure this place is clear before ya go stumblin' in ta somethin' nasty." Daryl pointed at the sofa. "Sit." Hunter reluctantly complied.

With a nod that was completely understood by his younger counterpart, the three of them split up to canvas the space better. Daryl with Carol behind him checked out the kitchen, dining room and office on the first floor. The other Daryl traveled up the stairs to cover the three bedrooms along with the master suite. The place was deserted, no humans or walkers in it. They gathered back in the living room.

"Clear upstairs," Daryl reported. "Got enough room if we put two in the master and then two in one a the smaller bedrooms."

"You check the closets?" the older man questioned.

Daryl threw him a dirty look. "I ain't dumb."

His older self narrowed his eyes at the comment but Carol inserted herself between them instead. "Of course your not. The good news is that I found all the fixings for spaghetti and meat sauce in the kitchen. Haven't had that since the pasta ran out three years ago. They even have garlic so I can make garlic bread! Sound good to everyone?"

They all nodded affirmatively, practically drooling at the thought. The kids had discovered that one of the remotes controlled the automatic window coverings and were having a fun time moving them around. Merle grabbed the controller away from Amelia and set it so no light would be seen outside in the darkness. It was agreed that all the windows would be covered with heavy comforters from off the beds for protection. There was no way for them to know who exactly could be lurking in this town.

Carol made herself busy in the kitchen with dinner. The older Daryl sat in there with her but he was studying the map they'd had in the car. It was the same one that had split them up in the first place when it tried to escape from Amelia but she had eventually caught it. His tracking sense was so screwed up that he was trying to get oriented again in order for them to find the group again. The kids had gone upstairs to examine the bedrooms. Merle was on the balcony, claiming that he was taking first watch but they all had a suspicion that he was getting high off the stash in his pocket. It was a fight none of them could deal with at that moment.

That left the younger Daryl in the living room alone, working on his crossbow. He was glad for the quiet, trying to process everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. It was obvious that something had happened to stop them from robbing the camp. He was curious what all that discussion about Merle's hand had been about but he would have to find the right time to bring that up. He wondered if Merle was still thinking about that. With a quick look at the balcony door, he figured that was unlikely.

Hunter and Amelia came running down the stairs. This whole place was like a new adventure to them. Daryl felt himself tensing somewhat, realizing he was now alone in their presence. It was true that his kids were pretty awesome, Amelia with her bow skills and Hunter being so stealthy. Yet, it was the thought of them being _his_ kids that sent him reeling. Never before had he thought of having kids, especially after what he went through as a child with his own father. Plus, even letting a woman come that close to him was a challenge. It made the obvious bond between his older self and Carol that much more mysterious. How had that happened?

"I want the red room. You can tell it was a girl's room," Amelia reported and plopped down in the sofa across from Daryl.

Hunter sat down in between them. "Nah, you know they're gonna stick us in the room with the two twin beds. We'll be back to sharing a room just like when we were little," he said disappointedly. Amelia nodded. Daryl just fiddled with his bolts quietly. Hunter then pulled out Milton's journal.

"Hey, let me see that!" Amelia exclaimed and tried to grab it out of his hand.

"No!" Hunter hissed back at her, pulling the journal out of her reach. "I'm not done reading it yet!"

"I just wanna see it for a minute. I'll give it right back!" Amelia pushed into him, making him leap off the sofa away from her.

"No! I found it," Hunter said as he walked over to the other side of the room.

Amelia followed him over. "You let me see that now or else I'll tell Judy Grimes that you have a crush on her!"

"I do not!" he denied but his eyes were wide. Daryl was trying hard to suppress a smile, knowing that the girl was right about her brother.

"Oh yes you do," Amelia persisted in a coy voice. "You never look her in the eye and you can barely talk when she's around. You like her so bad!"

Hunter's face was turning bright red and Daryl realized he was losing the battle of controlling his smile. The boy's blushing reminded him of himself around any women.

"Shut up, shut up, shut UP!" Hunter screamed and tried to hit Amelia with the journal. She danced out of the way but tripped over a table. One of the framed photos of a happy family of five fell to the floor with a crash. They all froze at the noise.

"What's going on out there?" Carol's stern voice floated through the air from the kitchen.

"Nothing!" Amelia and Hunter yelled back in unison. Daryl almost felt like he should join in with their denial of events.

"Yeah, better be nothing!" the older Daryl's voice answered back. "Just remember that if any version of maself sees ya misbehavin', he's got permission ta kick yer asses. Got it?"

The two of them stared at the younger Daryl, who stared right back at them after that declaration. He had no idea how to discipline kids but he liked the fact that their father seemed to be trusting him more. Therefore, he raised an eyebrow at them and looked down at the broken glass scattered on the floor.

"Got it!" the kids yelled back right before getting to work on cleaning up their mess.


	14. Chapter 14

So glad you are all liking the twins! Sometimes it can be really hard to develop OC characters that readers will accept. This chapter is early today because I am venturing to the Franklin Institute in Philly to see the One Day in Pompeii exhibit. Looking forward to getting my history nerd in gear today!

**Chapter 14**

The morning sun flowed through the great windows in the living room. The electric shutters had been lifted to brighten the entire penthouse. Delicious smells floated through the air from the kitchen and it had enticed even those that had resolved on sleeping in.

Carol had woken up early and explored the whole kitchen. She found waffle mix and a waffle iron along with a whole pound of bacon in the refrigerator. Since it had been so many years since she'd gotten to make a breakfast like that, she set to work with earnest. The results came out fantastic. They all sat around the massive dining room table, most of them moaning in pleasure over the food in front of them.

"What's a waffle?" Hunter poked at his breakfast on the plate in front of him suspiciously. "Never heard of it."

"Shut up and eat it. It's good," Daryl chided him around a mouthful of his own waffle. He was already working on his second one, drizzling more maple syrup over it. Amelia giggled when Hunter finally took a bite and then began inhaling his waffle.

"Slow down or you'll choke," Carol warned him as she sat down with another plate of bacon. Merle grabbed a fist full greedily, eliciting a look from Carol. "You two, young man," she said pointing at him.

The younger Daryl couldn't help but smirk as Merle deliberately shoved an entire strip of bacon into his mouth at once and then proceeded to cough. The older Daryl smacked him on the back, which dislodged the bacon. Everyone was laughing at him, tears in their eyes from the irony of it. Merle just glared at them before grabbing another waffle.

After breakfast, they packed up their few supplies, including everything they could fit from the kitchen that would stay good. They all had high hopes of finding their way out of Peakesville today and getting back to real life. Even with electricity, hot water and fresh food, the place was just too weird. It felt more like they were in a dream and they were ready to wake up from it.

The plan was to find the car first. Even though the younger Daryl was itching to get back to the forest, he wanted to make sure the kids were away safely. Merle seemed happy enough to go along with that, which Daryl was thankful for because Merle could be a real pain in the ass when he didn't get his way.

Of course the damn thing wouldn't start. The older Daryl tried it first, followed by Merle and finally the younger Daryl.

Climbing out of the driver's seat, Daryl sighed. "Seems ta be how this place works. Even that guy we ran inta had his truck die. Herschel the vet. Actually, both versions we met a him had that happen."

Carol and his other self whipped their heads in his direction at his words. "You saw Herschel the vet here? Herschel Greene?" Carol questioned.

Daryl nodded. "Ya know him?"

The older Daryl answered. "Yeah, he was one of our group. Good guy. We lost 'em years ago. Hunter's named fer him. Ya said ya saw him?"

"Two of 'em. Bout twenty years difference or so. One was a lush but the other was clean, the kindly country doc."

"He weren't no lush! Man just enjoyed a couple drinks is all," Merle defended the younger Herschel.

The younger Daryl started making some snide comments about the younger Herschel's obvious drinking tendencies. Carol just rolled her eyes. She had heard stories from Herschel about his battles with alcoholism during the long winter months they spent on the road together before finding the prison. However, at this moment, she decided to ignore Merle's comment. There were more important things to focus on.

She held up her hands to quiet the two bickering brothers, noting that Daryl and the kids just seemed to be enjoying the back and forth between them. "Okay, enough! We know strange things and people we would never expect show up in this town. As much as I would love to see Herschel again, we need to concentrate on getting out of here." Carol looked pointedly at her husband. "There might be some people we don't want to run into here."

Daryl pursed his lips, his hand squeezing the strap of his crossbow. "Don't know bout that. Might be nice ta kill some of those people a second time," he grumbled.

"Whatever," Carol huffed. "Should we just see if we can find the way out of this place and we can grab another car outside the city limits?"

They all agreed and decided to just keep walking straight until they got to the end of the town. That way they wouldn't go in circles. Once they were out, they could figure out where the hell they would go from there.

Hours went by as they walked. It seemed impossible that the town could be so large. Both Daryls felt disoriented, their tracking skills practically inoperable. Several times they felt like they saw buildings and landmarks that they swore they'd passed before. Yet, they never veered off course once, going straight through.

When they hit the corn field, all of them cheered. They finally found the end of this cursed town! Giddy like school children, they began running through the corn field, sure they would find the forest on the other side. Excitement cooled the longer they traveled. Footsteps grew heavy, breaths coming harder as they pushed further between the long rows of corn. None of them wanted to spoil the happiness of the others at the thought that this path was leading them more into oblivion rather than closer to relief.

"Enough!" Merle growled loudly, stopping in his tracks. "This is bullshit. Rather be stuck in that god-damned town than in this fucking cornfield." He turned and stomped away. Without a word, the others followed him, depressed that their supposed way out was just an endless field. It seemed to take a whole lot less time to get back to town than they felt like they'd spent moving through the corn.

They stopped for a late lunch at a small diner. It was like they didn't want to stop because they felt like if they just kept walking, they would be freed. However, hunger won over, especially once the kids started whining. Like all the other places before, the food was still fresh and ready for the taking. All of them were a little quiet, seemingly discouraged that they were still trudging around Peakesville.

As they came out of the front door of the diner, a loud shriek ripped through the air. Everyone was instantly alert, weapons drawn and ready. Another scream came, echoing around them. This one sounded closer but it was difficult to tell where it was coming from. They instinctively got closer to each other, backs together to cover all the different directions. It was like they'd been trained in combat together, which in a sense was true.

A figure burst out running from the intersection down the street. It was a woman, her blond hair tied back in a pony tail. She had the most terrified look on her face as she ran. Her clothes were disheveled, like she'd been running for a long time. A gunshot blasted behind her from beyond the intersection and her whole body leapt forward in fright. She hadn't noticed the small group watching her.

"Andrea!"

Carol had recovered first, recognizing her friend who had been lost to them so long ago. She bolted towards Andrea, catching up with her quickly. Carol clutched at Andrea's wrist, trying to stop her forward momentum. Andrea didn't seem to recognize her at first, struggling to dislodge Carol's hand but Carol held firmly.

"Andrea! It's Carol!" she tried again to get past the fear.

Andrea stilled then, blinking and really looking at Carol. "Carol?" she asked, still unsure of who she was seeing. Then Daryl was behind his wife and Andrea recognized him. "Daryl Dixon?" The two of them nodded, confirming their identities for her. For just a moment, she looked relieved. Then the terror returned as she remembered why she was running. "Help! He's going to kill me! He's been chasing me all day!" she cried and fell to her knees. Her exhaustion was evident now.

"Who?" Carol questioned as she crouched down beside Andrea. By then, Merle, Hunter, Amelia and the other Daryl had surrounded Andrea, trying to figure out what was going on. However, Andrea's eyes stayed strictly on Carol's kind face.

"The Governor," she whispered and burst into tears. She'd stayed strong for so long but now that she had found her friend, she was having trouble keeping it together.

"Who the fuck is the Governor?" Merle and the younger Daryl asked, almost in unison. The kids didn't speak but the frightened looks on their faces at the mention of that name made the two men nervous.

"He's a psychopathic asshole," Daryl grunted.

Ignoring them, Carol gave Daryl a grim look. "Careful what you wish for."

Daryl grimaced, thinking of his comment from just a few hours ago. "Fuck."

"I should have followed through with your plan, Carol! I swear I tried. He was asleep and I had the knife but I just couldn't. I was weak and he's gonna kill me for it!" she choked out through the tears.

"What plan?" Daryl asked his wife in a confused voice.

Carol waved him off and hugged Andrea into her chest. Like a child, she rocked her gently and made soothing sounds to calm her. "It's okay. You think I came up with that plan right off the top of my head? I had been thinking about it for years and I never got up the guts to end Ed that way. You're strong and we're here now," Carol reassured her. Andrea nodded thankfully and gave her friend a small smile.

"What do we have here?" spoke a voice from down the road. It was a calm, deep voice the exuded control and power. "You find yourself some friends, darling?"

All of them turned quickly to face the man with the eye patch walking towards them, their weapons pointed at him. All except Andrea and Carol. Andrea grasped on to Carol more desperately, the tears streaming out of her eyes and down her face. "He's gonna kill me," she whispered so quietly Carol could barely hear her. It was almost like she'd given up.

The Governor moved closer to them, examining each member of the group. Recognition flashed on his face. "Merle!" He shouted with glee.

Merle frowned, glancing at his baby brother before looking back at the unknown man. "I know ya?"

The Governor feigned insult, his hand going over his heart. "That hurts man. After all we've been through together. I brought you back from the brink, nursed you back to health. You were my right-hand man," he laughed at the irony of his words, which was completely lost on the two-handed Merle. Then in a blink, his face turned serious. "Then you betrayed me," he said on a dangerous tone. "Lost my eye and my little girl because of what you did."

Merle's frown was even deeper. "Listen, dude. Don't think you realize how things work in this fucked up town. I ain't never met you. At least not yet."

The Governor studied the pistol clutched in Merle's right hand. "You might be right." He smiled again, his charisma oozing out. "What do you say you just give me Andrea and I'll let all you nice people alone? I see you've got some children with you. It would be unfortunate if one of them got hurt in a fire fight." The threat was clear.

Having this man that he hated with such a passion threaten his children was enough to spur Daryl into action. Without a word, he released one of his bolts. It should have landed square in the middle of the Governor's forehead but the man flinched away at the last moment and it lodged in his shoulder instead.

With a cry of anger mixed with pain, the Governor shot of several rounds at them and ducked into the closest building. The bullets went wide, having not been aimed well but all of them crouched out of the way. Andrea whimpered but stayed on the ground held by Carol. She was too fatigued to try to run.

"You two cover Mom!" Daryl directed Amelia and Hunter, who moved on either side of Carol and Andrea. Amelia had an arrow in her bow while Hunter had the safety off the gun.

The two Daryls and Merle moved toward the door that the Governor had disappeared in. It was a small bank and they could not see him through the window. The older Daryl went in first, ready to shoot his next bolt at any movement. Merle and the younger Daryl came in behind him. The younger Daryl squatted down, observing a trail of blood droplets on the floor.

"This way," he pointed toward the back of the bank, behind the tellers' counter. The blood led them to the manager's office.

The older Daryl stuck his head through the doorway briefly to get the layout of the room. He pulled back just in time to avoid the bullet that crashed into the wall just where he'd been standing.

"Any of you think about coming in here and I'll add a few new holes to your anatomy," the Governor warned them.

Daryl felt rage overwhelming him. Words that he would not have spoken otherwise slipped out of him as he confronted one of his greatest enemies. "I'm gonna kill ya, you motherfucker. Ya hear me? You killed my brother and I've always wanted ta make you pay for that. Make ya pay my way!"

The Governor laughed at him. It was the same psychopathic laughter that drove Daryl's anger to the point of insanity. Daryl tensed up, about to do something very stupid and hazardous. Before anyone could stop him, he ran through the door. Diving to the floor to avoid the spray of bullets, he let the other bolt loose at the Governor, who was seated in the plush chair at the large desk. The bolt hit the gun in the Governor's hand, sending it flying off to the side of the room.

Merle came in behind Daryl and didn't hesitate blasting the man in the chest several times. The room became quiet after all the deafening noise. A small groan escaped the Governor, the four bullet wounds in his chest bleeding profusely. A line of blood trailed out of his mouth and he started to laugh again. It was a weak laugh in death but just as creepy as before, maybe even more so because of the blood splattering out from between his lips.

The older Daryl rolled off the floor and stalked over to the dying man. He smashed his fist into his face but the laughing didn't stop. Daryl hit him over and over again until the cracking of bone sounded through the room. The laughing finally halted.

Daryl was panting but he pulled out his large hunting knife. The younger Daryl looked unhappy and confused. "Hey, let's just get the hell outta here."

"Gotta put him down before he turns," Daryl said absentmindedly. It was so routine for him now with any death.

"He weren't bit," Merle stated.

"Don't need ta get bit. We're all infected. Just need ta die ta turn. Now shut up," Daryl snapped as he turned back to the dead Governor.

Before he could plunge the knife into his head, something unexpected happened. The dead body seemed to change. It darkened in a second and began to decompose right in front of them. It collapsed in on itself and basically vanished right before their eyes. Only the bloody bullet holes in the chair behind where the body had been showed there had even been a body there at all.

"What the fuck was that?"


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry this didn't get posted yesterday! FF dot net was being really difficult and would not allow me to post anything. Grrrr...

Wow, I can't believe how far into this story we have gotten! I know it was totally weird what happened with the Governor dying last chapter but there might be some theories in thischapter *hint, hint*

**Chapter 15**

Andrea awoke suddenly, a scream on her lips. It came out as a weak sob and she sat up in bed. She was being chased in a field, Philip driving a Jeep behind her. If she stopped or fell, she knew he would get her. Unfortunately, it wasn't a nightmare. It was a memory of yesterday.

She thought back to all the confusing events. After she'd escaped the Governor in the field, she ran right into Peakesville. However, he'd followed after her. He'd been trying to shoot her and it had been a miracle when she'd randomly run into Daryl and Carol. Shouldn't they have been in the prison, knowing that the Governor was going to be coming after them? And had she actually seen two Daryls or was that a hallucination? Did Merle still have his hand, no metal blade stump? Who were those two children? The boy certainly wasn't Carl.

Her head hurt and she rubbed at her temples. There were so many questions but once it had been reported to her that Philip was dead, the exhaustion overwhelmed her. She remembered collapsing, being caught by Daryl and carried away. They'd put her in such a comfortable bed and she had no idea how long she'd slept. The windows were completely covered so she wasn't sure if it was dark because of that or if the sun had truly set already.

Voices drifted through her doorway. Children's voices.

"What do you think it's for?" a boy's voice asked.

"I think it's a toy," answered the girl. "Let me try it." A hard noise echoed down the hall.

_Bam, bam, bam._

"I think you're supposed to see how many times you can hit the ball without missing," the girl reported.

"Let me try. We can take turns," the boy insisted.

"Okay."

_Bam._

"My turn!" the girl stated happily.

The boy grumbled a little. "This isn't fair. You've got better aim than me."

_Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, thunk!_

"You broke it!" cried the boy distressed.

Andrea felt the ghost of a smile on her lips. Even though Amy had been significantly younger than her, she could still remember very similar conversations with her sister. A broken Game Boy came into her head. She unwrapped her legs from the blanket and felt around the wall for a light switch. Blinking in the sudden brightness from the bedside lamp, she noticed someone had gotten her out of her jeans. Probably Carol, trying to make her more comfortable. She couldn't imagine Daryl doing it without his face catching fire. And Carol would never leave her to the likes of Merle for such a job.

Pulling them on and running her fingers through her tangled hair, she opened the bedroom door. Two pairs of blue eyes widened at the sight of her. The children, most certainly twins, almost looked afraid of her.

"Did- did we wake you?" the girl asked in a voice that was almost a whisper. "I'm so sorry!"

"We were only playing but we might have forgotten to be quiet," the boy offered, holding up one of those old-fashioned ball and paddle toys. The string connecting the rubber ball to the wooden panel had pulled free of the staple that had been holding it in place.

"No harm done. Want me to fix that for you?" Andrea indicated the toy.

Both kids nodded and handed it to her. She walked over to the desk in a room that had once been a teenaged boy's room. After riffling around in a couple drawers, she successfully found a stapler. With a quick depression, the string was reattached and she handed it back to the boy.

"You two twins?" she asked, not wanting to blurt out the most obvious question in her mind. It was hard not to think about it when studying the familiar features of the two of them.

"Yep," the boy answered absently as he tried swinging the paddle at the ball and missing.

"I'm Amelia and this is Hunter," the girl introduced them. "Do you know about this weirdo place?" the girl asked her. Andrea shook her head, not really understanding. The girl continued without further prompting. "It's hard to explain but it seems like all the rules of time and space don't apply here. I can tell by how you first looked at us that you already suspect that Daryl and Carol are our parents, and you're right about that."

Andrea opened her mouth to respond but Amelia held up her hand to halt her. "Let me finish and it should get clearer. I promise." She paused and frowned. "Maybe." Shaking her head, she started talking again. "We're almost thirteen years old, having spent our whole lives in the same place in Alabama. Then some bad people attacked us and we had to leave. We were driving to meet up with the rest of our group in Tennessee but somehow ended up here. We got split up but ran into Uncle Merle and our dad. Well, he's not really our dad yet. They're from the quarry."

'The quarry outside Atlanta? Where we all ended up after the world went to hell?" Andrea questioned. Amelia nodded. "How can that be possible? You're from the future and they're from the past."

Amelia shrugged. "It's this place, Peakesville, Ohio. It can suck anyone into it from anywhere. The other Daryl and Merle saw Herschel Greene, Maggie and Beth's dad. In fact, they said they saw two of him, older and younger. And Hunter found this journal, written all scientific like. That guy saw his dead sister and himself as a child. What was his name?"

Hunter pulled the journal. "Milton."

"Milton Mahmet?" Andrea asked incredulously.

Hunter looked at her with astonishment. "Yeah," he said and handed her the journal.

She flipped through it. "I know him from Woodbury. He might be a little odd but he's a good man, trying to find a solution to the walkers." After skimming a few pages, she chuckled. "This definitely sounds like Milton." She turned back to Amelia. "Anyone else?"

"When dad and I were separated, we saw-" she clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. She'd forgotten that she was supposed to keep that particular encounter to herself.

Hunter looked at her suspiciously. "Who'd you see?"

"I can't tell. Dad told me not too," she said in a very small voice. "Mom'll get real upset."

"We won't tell her, Amelia. It's better if we know who else is here," Andrea prompted her.

Amelia thought about it. "Neither of you will say anything? Promise? I hate when mama cries." Both of them promised to keep quiet, Hunter even crossing his heart. "Okay. It was Sophia."

Hunter stared at her. "You saw our sister? Alive? Why didn't you bring her back with you?"

"We tried but she got scared and ran away!" Amelia defended herself.

Andrea was recovering from hearing that name again. The last time she'd seen Sophia was when the little girl had come stumbling out of the barn, a walker. It had been horrifying and she had shoved the memory to the back of her mind. Recovering from the emergence of it again, she said "It's okay. This whole place is scary. It wasn't your fault. But I agree with your dad; let's keep this to ourselves." She looked pointedly at Hunter, who concurred.

Standing up, Andrea asked, "Do you know what time it is?"

Hunter answered, "Nighttime. You slept through dinner but I know they saved you some in the kitchen. Said you can heat it up in the… what's that box that lights up and makes things hot real fast?"

"A microwave?" Andrea asked with a smile.

"Yeah! It's like magic!" Hunter reported excitedly.

"All the adults are sitting on the balcony. We're, umm, supposed to be getting ready for bed," Amelia reported awkwardly then added. "Quietly, so as not to disturb you."

Andrea laughed. "Don't worry about it, I'm hungry anyway." She left them and went downstairs. It was strange using the microwave to heat up the leftovers after not having access to one for over a year. With her plate in hand, she made her way out to the balcony.

Carol jumped up immediately. "Andrea! Let me help you!"

Andrea waved her away, plopping down in the empty chair next to Merle. The man smirked at her. "Ya have a nice beauty sleep, Blondie?"

"If you count reliving the memory of your ex-lover trying to run you down with his Jeep, then yeah, it was great," she snorted. Her eyes flicked down to his right hand.

"What?! Why the fuck is everyone so obsessed with ma god-damned hand?" Merle yelled.

The older Daryl spoke up this time. "Let's just say ya should enjoy the benefits of it now." That elicited a few giggles.

Merle growled at that. "Fuck all a ya." That got more laughing at his expense.

Carol gave Andrea a bit of a confused look. "You don't seem to be surprised to see two of the same people and Merle having apparently regrown a hand."

Andrea touched her hand gently. "I ran into your kids upstairs. They explained everything about this place. You've got some smart kids there."

Carol couldn't keep the expression of pride off her face. "They didn't wake you, did they?"

"Nah, nightmares thanks to Philip Blake did that. They did find one of those ball and paddle toys, which was taking up their attention."

Carol rolled her eyes and Daryl huffed. "Figures somethin' would distract them from the task of getting' ready fer bed."

"I better go reinforce that direction. It's getting really late," Carol said and headed back inside. The rest of them sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the cool night as Andrea finished her dinner.

Putting the plate down, Andrea glanced between the younger Daryl and the older Daryl. "Ya know," she drawled slowly. "I always had a feeling about you and Carol. Ever since that Cherokee rose thing at the Greene farm."

The older Daryl's face flamed bright red, which was even obvious in the dim light. "Shut up."

Unfortunately, Merle wasn't going to let that go. "Ya mean ma baby brother, who can barely talk ta a woman, gave her a rose?"

"The woman had just lost her kid! I was tryin' ta make her feel better!" Daryl snapped back in defense. Even the younger Daryl, who kept silent during times like this, started turning red.

"Ya know, I've used flowers ta get a woman inta ma bed before. Was she like the little mousey thing we knew at the quarry at that point or was she more like this warrior woman we met yesterday?" Merle pressed. "I gotta say that she was smokin' hot when she was takin' those geeks down with that blade."

Both Daryls stood up with that comment but the older version was the one who grabbed Merle by the front of the shirt. "Don't ya even fuckin' look at her!"

The younger one put his hand on his counterpart's tense arm. "Man, ya know he's just tryin' ta piss ya off. It ain't worth it when ya know he ain't got a chance in hell with her." The words penetrated the haze and Daryl let go of his older brother.

Merle just laughed. "Sorry, baby brother. Promise I ain't gonna put the moves on yer woman."

Heading towards the door back inside, the older Daryl flipped him off and vanished with a "Fuck you, Merle."

The conversation turned to the bizarre disintegration of the dead Governor's body. He had definitely been dead, with all those bullets in his chest and his face broken by Daryl's fist. Yet, he hadn't turned. He'd dissolved in a pile of dust and disappeared. Andrea thought it sounded like what happened when vampires died on that show _Buffy: The Vampire Slayer._ Neither Dixon had ever watched the show but they all agreed that as evil as Philip Blake was, he had not been a vampire.

The younger Daryl had caught a comment by his older self that the Governor had killed Merle at some point after he'd gone after Andrea. It made him wonder if perhaps this was not the real man, maybe just a figment of the town's creation. Or perhaps people don't die here. Maybe they just go back to where they came from, like a video game character resetting. He shared these theories but none of them was willing to test it.

Death could still mean death, even in Peakesville. None of them knew that the rules were different in the Twilight Zone.


	16. Chapter 16

Warning: Smut ahead!

I admit that I am a little nervous about this chapter. I hope nobody finds it disturbing because I was more going for hot. If you do have a problem with it, let me know.

**Chapter 16**

The night was comfortable, the perfect temperature to sit outside without getting too hot or too cold. There was a gentle breeze up on the top floor of the apartment building but it wasn't strong enough to disturb anything. They didn't dare light candles or a flashlight for fear of being noticed by anyone, or anything, that might spot them from down below. Luckily, the moon was mostly full and their eyes adjusted well to the silvery light in the sky.

Andrea, Merle and the younger Daryl were all indulging in some liquid libations out on the balcony. Carol and the older Daryl had left a while before and Merle had been feeling thirsty not long after that. They'd discovered that the liquor cabinet had been well-stocked by the former owners of the penthouse. Andrea was drinking some of the red wine, which was helping to relax her after the incredible stress of the day. Merle held a bottle of Jim Bean in one hand and Grey Goose in the other, happily taking pulls from each bottle. Daryl was trying to keep his wits and was only on his second can of imported beer.

Merle took a swing of the Grey Goose, his attitude happy and his speech slightly slurred. "Alright, Blondie. I'm finished dickin' around. What the fuck's gonna happen to ma hand?" he demanded. It might have been construed as threatening if he wasn't swaying and smiling as he said it.

Daryl leaned forward, interested in the answer. Andrea took a sip of wine before answering.

"I don't think I should tell you the details. You know what they say about being the messenger," Andrea told him. Merle opened his mouth to retort but Andrea cut him off. "What I will tell you is that you do lose your right hand. You're from the quarry? Then you might want to _enjoy_ that hand sooner rather than later," she said matter-of-factly even as she emphasized one particular word.

Daryl couldn't help chuckling at the expense of his brother, who looked appalled. "Shit! It ain't the same left handed!"

Andrea tried to keep a straight face. "It sucks, I know. But you did the most Merle-thing you could when you lost it."

"And what Merle-thing could I do with a damned stump?" Merle questioned, his tone obviously pissed about the conformation that he was going to be one-handed soon.

"You make it into a weapon. This big metal thing with a wicked blade on the end. You use it to ram into the walkers' skulls. Very effective," Andrea told him with a look of approval.

"Yeah?" Merle grinned at that. He gazed at his hand, flattening it to resemble a blade and then jabbing it into the air. "That don't sound too bad." He looked at his little brother. "Maybe I used it on that asshole who used ta beat on yer woman."

Andrea snorted. "That's not quite what happened to Ed but he would have deserved it."

"What did happen ta him?" Daryl asked, speaking up for the first time in a while.

"Got bit. Practically ripped apart when our camp was overrun. Jerk had punched Carol in the face in front of all of us and Shane kicked his ass. He'd been hiding out in his tent when the walkers came through and got him. No loss there in my opinion," Andrea remarked as she took another drink of wine. She looked kind of distracted as she thought back to that night.

"What about her little girl?" This time Daryl seemed a little hesitant with that question. The smile that had been on Andrea's lips descended into a frown. Even Merle, who'd been busy imagining his hand as a killer machete, looked up at that.

"Sophia?" Andrea questioned and Daryl nodded. She swallowed thickly before talking. "A herd came through on the highway when we were scavenging the cars. She got chased into the woods. We never found her, not until the barn."

"What barn?"

"A lot of shit when down then Daryl. We meet up with Herschel at his farm. He thought the walkers were just sick people, that they could be cured. He was collecting them in his barn to try to save them," Andrea explained.

"Yes! That idiot told us the same thing! Bunch a bullshit," Merle exclaimed.

"Anyway, Shane freaked out when he heard about it and broke open the barn. Sophia was the last walker to come out. Rick was the one who put her down.

"Daryl," she turned to face him fully. "You tried to find her. You searched those woods, got yourself hurt pretty bad and even then you didn't stop looking. Even when everyone else gave up on her, you didn't. I think Carol appreciated that more than you'll ever know. It's what brought you together, I bet."

His face turning red, Daryl looked down at his hands. Even Merle didn't make a snarky comment, which would have been his style. Daryl tried to process all of this, thinking about that little girl who'd run into him just a couple days earlier. Picturing her as a walker was painful.

It was too much. He jerked into a standing position. "Gotta take a piss. Then I'm gettin' some shut eye. Wake the other two for watch when ya'll come in," he told them as he strode back inside.

After finishing with necessary business, Daryl went up the stairs and glanced in the kids' room. As Hunter had predicted, the two of them were sharing the room with the two twin beds. Luckily, they hadn't put up too much of a fuss, especially since Andrea had joined them. Both of them were fast asleep and Daryl couldn't resist entering the room to look at them more closely.

Hunter was in the bed closest to the door. He slept like he didn't have a care in the world. His limbs were all splayed out and the covers in complete disarray. Amelia was sleeping curled up on her side in the bed near the window. He cracked a smile when he noticed she was sleeping with her new bow. It made him think of his years as a teenager, taking his crossbow to bed with him. He thought it would protect him from his father's midnight assaults but he'd always been too much of a wimp to actually use it on the man.

As he closed the door, he still had difficulty making his brain accept that those two living, breathing, human beings were his children. He never thought he would ever be a father, figured he's be absolute shit at the job. Yet, they seemed to have turned out pretty well now that he'd gotten to know them some. Each of them was unique and special. Most likely came from Carol, he mused.

He strode across the hall into his own room, which he was supposed to be sharing with Merle. However, Merle had decided the night before that he much preferred the huge sofa in front of the TV so Daryl had gotten the queen bed for himself while Andrea was now in the other room. Yet, before he shut his door, a noise caught his attention. It sounded like a whimper and came from the master bedroom, which is where his counterpart and Carol were. He froze, thinking maybe it was his imagination but then he heard it again. Almost sounded like someone was in pain.

The door was mostly closed but a strip of light shone out of a fairly wide crack. It appeared like someone had tried to close it in haste and it had drifted back open a little. Walking silently down the hall, Daryl stopped in front of the door. He briefly thought about knocking and calling out to them but something stopped him from doing that. Instead, he leaned forward and just peeked through the crack. He reasoned that he just needed to make sure everything was okay, that there wasn't some psychopath or a walker in there with them, and then he could just go back to his own room.

His first glance through the crack in the door had him reeling backwards. He hit the wall behind him with a soft _thunk_. Yet, it sounded explosively loud to him in the empty corridor, causing him to freeze. Holding his breath, he waited for some kind of reaction. He was sure the door was going to be flung open or one of the kids was going to wake up. However, a half a minute passed with no response. He seemed to be in the clear.

He knew he should just turn around. Spying on his older self with his wife was not right. Yet, he couldn't seem to help himself. It was like an unconscious impulse that drew him back to that cracked door.

The two of them were lying naked in the huge, California king bed that encompassed most of the room. The comforter had been thrown on the floor and the sheets bunched up at the bottom of the mattress. She was on top of him, straddling his hips. Her bare back was facing towards him and he was captivated by her smooth, milky skin. His own large, tanned hands roamed over her flesh and he longed to do the same now, not have to wait all those years for the privilege.

She rocked her hip against his and moaned quietly. She bit down on her bottom lip and rocked her hips again, the tiniest whimper escaping past her lips. Those explicit sounds of pleasure seemed to pierce into his being as Daryl watched her. He could feel himself getting aroused by it. At the same time, his face began to burn with the shame of his voyeuristic activity.

His older self moved his hands over her breasts, kneading them. As he ran his thumbs over the taunt peaks, a hint of a growl came from him. His own hips seemed to start acting on their own accord, rising up to match her rocking. She whimpered again, a little louder this time. His hands descended down her curves, resting on her thighs. He wondered if he would leave bruises as he watched his hard hands massage her softness. She didn't seem to mind one bit as her rocking increased in pace and she threw her head back with a gasp.

His own hands had wandered up to her back again. Then, in one sudden motion, he flipped her onto her back, his body looming over hers. Their intimate connection was never broken. It seemed like a well-practice move even though the younger Daryl had never performed it himself. Not that he'd ever had the opportunity during his couple of drunken sexual encounters. They'd taken place either in the back seat of a car or in the bathroom stall at his bar. Nothing ever so fancy as the enormous bed he was now watching himself fuck his future wife in.

For probably a minute, Daryl found himself just staring at his own mangled back. It wasn't like he didn't know about the extent of his scarring. Hell, he'd lived through all those beatings from his asshole father as well as his own stupidity falling out of trees as a kid. However, it was a completely different experience to view the damage fully. His eyes traced the long, jagged, white line curving from his left shoulder almost around his abdomen. He remembered that one vividly, when his father had smashed him into a glass coffee table. It had taken 153 stitches to close it. He felt his own back muscles tense unconsciously at the thought of it. There were even a few scars that he knew he'd not yet acquired.

Then Carol wrapped her beautiful white legs around his waist and he was totally distracted from his distorted back and thoughts of his painful past. No, looking at her supple legs was so much nicer than that. He studied them like a painter examining a fine portrait as she clenched them tighter and tighter around him.

His counterpart began to find a good rhythm. Daryl could feel his pants getting even tighter as he watched himself thrusting into her. Without breaking stride, the older Daryl's hand reached around and gripped her under her knee. He then drew that wonderful leg over his shoulder, allowing him to bury himself even deeper inside of her. This was obviously another new move that he'd learned later in life.

Carol cried out at the sensations. The younger man had to grab the door jam on both sides to keep himself still. He watched with gritted teeth as his counterpart pounded into her, his pace increasing. His hand reached up and covered her mouth. It seemed like a rough gesture to the other man but then he could hear the muted cries coming from her. She was so close to coming. In almost no time, her body was writhing underneath his and her screams of orgasm were muffled by his hand clamped over her mouth. Her face looked like she was experiencing ecstasy.

Like the noises she had made before only more intensely, those screams of passion affected him physically. More blood poured downwards and he was so hard it almost hurt. His fingers dug further into the door jam and if he'd been aware of it, he would have realized he was leaving small dents in the wood. It was either that or he was going to cum right there in his pants.

The older Daryl's pace became frantic as Carol was just coming down off her high. His entire body was tensing up, his breath coming pants, and then he growled into her shoulder as he went over the edge. He slowed down then and they gazed into each other eyes, her legs still draped over and around him. The man slid his hand away from her mouth, gently caressing her face. Then he kissed her. It wasn't hard or deep, just a sweet, loving kiss. It was so obvious in that moment how much his future self absolutely adored this woman.

Daryl backed away from the door silently, knowing that it was more likely his presence would be discovered with each passing moment. He hurried back to his room and shut the door, throwing the lock into place. Unfortunately, just trying to control his breathing and lying on the bed was not enough to correct his uncomfortable situation. He never understood it before but now he knew why some couples recorded themselves having sex. It could be a real, fucking turn-on! Sadly, he was alone but it wasn't so bad as images of her swirled through his mind.


	17. Chapter 17

Hi all! So glad to see that nobody thought the last chapter was disturbing or confusing (or at least nobody commented on that). We are headed into the last stretch of this story, the next few chapters building into the grand finale. Hope it's as exciting to read as it was to write!

On a personal note, I am so excited because I am going to get to meet Melissa McBride at Farpoint Sci-Fi convention in Maryland next month! I am preparing for it as a good obsessed fan should. I just got a maternity shirt with "Lil A**kicker" written across the abdomen (I'll be seven months pregnant at that point, for those who didn't know). Also working on a super-secret project for her. If you are interested in pics of the shirt or the project, PM me.

**Chapter 17**

Daryl woke early, the sun just barely coming over the horizon. He'd slept fitfully, tossing and turning through the night. Images of him and her invaded his dreams. Sometimes he was just a spectator and sometimes he was a participant. It was both exciting and confusing but left him feeling awkward and alone when he woke up.

With a frustrated sigh, he climbed out of the comfortable bed. As he pulled on his clothes, he wished he could just escape into the woods for some hunting. It would really help to clear his head if he could just kill something. Unfortunately, the woods did not seem to exist in the never-ending town of Peakesville, Ohio.

The place was completely silent as he went down the stairs. It was kind of eerie for it to be so still after all the activity with everyone living there. He expected to be greeted by Merle's obnoxiously loud snoring but instead only found his rumbled blanket tossed lazily across the back of the sofa. A hastily jotted note lay on the floor. _Be back soon_ was all it stated.

"Shit, Merle," Daryl muttered as he crushed the note in his fist. It felt a lot like before the zombie rising when Merle would take off for days and Daryl would have no idea if he was dead, in jail or just out partying.

He glanced at the closed balcony door and wondered if anyone had even bothered to stay up on watch. He'd done it the night before and would have done it last night too if he'd thought everyone else was going to pussy out of it. The shitty night of sleep he got wasn't worth putting them all in danger.

Stepping out into the cool morning air, he was surprised to find his older self already occupying the balcony. He looked comfortable in the padded wicker chair with his boots resting on the little table in front of him. He was smoking a cigarette, the pack on the table next to his boot. The younger Daryl's mind shifted back to the activities he'd observed the night before and his eyes instantly darted away from his counterpart's.

He didn't seem to notice, just sat up and grabbed the pack. "Here," he offered. The younger man hesitated and Daryl shook the pack at him impatiently. "Yer gonna want it. Been eleven years since ma last and that thing was stale as shit."

Daryl relented and took one from the pack. Scooping up the lighter from the table, he settled into the adjacent chair and took a long, satisfying drag.

"That bastard actually leave a note?" the older Daryl questioned, nodding at the crumbled paper in the younger man's fist.

"Yeah. He let ya know he was goin'?"

"Course not. Didn't even hear him go. Asshole actually waved at me from down there before he went runnin' off," the older man pointed down at the street below. "Ya know where he went, right?"

Daryl nodded at his older self. "Ta get his fuckin' fix." His counterpart nodded back and both of them took another drag, disgusted at their brother. Daryl glanced over again but didn't let his eyes settle on the other man. "What time they wake ya up last night fer watch?" he asked, wondering just how late Andrea and Merle had talked.

"Bout 2am," he answered.

Daryl's thought inadvertently went back to last night. Apparently, they'd only gotten about two hours of sleep before being woken. He tried to stop his mind from thinking about them sleeping together, naked bodies curling around each other. He could feel the blush starting on his cheeks and he hoped his other self wouldn't notice.

No such luck. The older Daryl had his eyes narrowed as he examined his reddening face. The younger man looked over at him for a fleeting moment then quickly looked away. His counterpart started chuckling softly.

"You see somethin' last night you weren't supposed ta?" the older man asked him with a smirk on his face. "Huh?" he pressed. Daryl could feel his face glowing as the blush intensified. He had no control over it and the other man knew it. His counterpart took another drag on his cigarette, looking highly amused. Then he made a comment that almost made Daryl bolt. "Its good. With her, I mean. Like mind-blowingly good."

Daryl just stared at the man, who looked downright proud of himself for saying that out loud. He had a feeling he was taunting him, trying to either get a rise out of him or see if he'd run away. But Daryl did neither. Instead, he also did something unexpected. He asked a question.

"So how long before you and her…?"

"Before I started fucking her?" Daryl cringed at the language but knew it was exactly how he'd phrase it. He simply nodded and the older man thought for a moment. "Bout 2 years from where you are at the quarry. Ain't gonna explain it ta you cause you won't get it right now. But it was right, her and I together." Daryl didn't doubt it; he could see it clearly the night before.

"You two plan fer the kids?" he asked.

"Fuck no! Forgot the damn rubber only twice before she was knocked up. Ya know I ain't never thought I'd be a daddy. Figured I'd be shit at it, just like our old man."

"You freak when she told ya?"

The older man snorted. "She didn't tell me nothin'. Damn woman was in denial about the whole thing till almost her second trimester. Group even had a pool goin' bout when she was finally gonna admit it. Guess who won that?" Daryl gave the man a half smile, knowing exactly who won the pool. His counterpart continued, a wistful smile on his face at the memory. "Last time I ever got ta eat a Reese peanut butter cup. Miss those fuckin' things."

"Kids seemed ta have turned out pretty good," Daryl interjected.

"Yeah, they got it all from their mother."

"No shit." That earned him a dirty look.

Suddenly the balcony door wrenched open, a scared Amelia rushing out. "Dad, come quick. Mom needs help!" The two Daryls were on their feet instantly, chasing behind her as she ran back up the stairs. Her path led right into the master bathroom.

Daryl quickly surveyed the situation. Carol was lying on the tiled floor, just a towel wrapped around her. Her ankle, which had been getting better, was back to an angry purple color and he could practically see it swelling up again. Andrea was supporting her back and Hunter was holding her hand. The bathtub was full and smelled nice, like lavender or something flowery.

"What the fuck were ya thinkin'?" her husband yelled at her as he pushed past Andrea and lifted her up in his arms.

Carol huffed. "I just wanted a bath before everyone got up. Thought my ankle was back to normal but it wasn't. It twisted right under me as I got out."

Daryl laid her down on the bed in the next room. His younger self, Andrea and both kids crowded around her. Daryl threw a blanket over her because the towel was already starting to creep upwards. Then he proceeded to examine her ankle, feeling it with inexperienced but gentle hands. She winced in pain, sucking in her breath and biting her bottom lip. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Not your fault. This is all my fault! I really screwed up," she stated in a distressed voice. Then she tried to sit up. "I'm pretty sure it isn't broken and I could probably still walk if I lean on-"

"Ain't happenin'," Daryl said harshly as he pushed her back down on the bed. "I'm gonna go find ya some crutches or a wheel chair or somethin'. Maybe I can even find Herschel and he can tell us if it's broken."

"Oh god," Carol groaned as she buried her face in the pillow.

"I'll back you up," Andrea immediately offered.

"I can help too," Hunter said.

"I'll stay back with Mom. I can help her get dressed," Amelia suggested.

Daryl looked a little suspicious at each of his children. Hunter wanting to come with him and Amelia staying back with Carol was a definite role reversal. Yet, they weren't fighting about it so he just shrugged. Then he paused.

"I ain't leavin' you two here alone," he stated as he looked at Carol and Amelia.

The younger Daryl stepped up. "I can stay with 'em."

The older man frowned, his eyes narrowed at himself. He wanted to go find what he needed to get Carol out of this damned town but he also wanted to stay back with her, guard her so he knew she would stay safe. He wanted to be in two places at once. Strangely, it was almost like he could do that. With a stiff nod of approval, he accepted his counterpart's offer.

As the others geared up to go back out, Daryl sat down on the bed by his wife. He took her hand and kissed the palm. She reached up and ran her fingers along his jaw. "Stay safe," she told him. His only answer was to lean down and kiss her deeply, pouring all his love and passion for her into that kiss. It left them both wanting more but it would have to wait. He turned and left the room without another word.

The rest of them waited by the front door as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder, slipped his knife in his boot and a loaded gun into his waistband. The mood seemed solemn as the group split into two. Daryl drew Amelia into his arms, squeezing her in a rare hug. Then he watched with no small amount of fatherly pride as the twins gave each other one last hug.

As Daryl swung the front door open, a voice stopped him.

"Hey!" the younger Daryl called out to catch his attention. "If ya find Merle, drag his ass back here."

The older man cracked a half smile. "Hell yeah. Asshole deserves an ass kicking." With that, the door closed with a quiet click. Once they were outside, Daryl laid out the plan. "Okay, we gotta find a medical supply store. Maybe a hospital or even doctor's office. I'd rather a wheelchair so she don't need ta walk but if all we can find is crutches, it'll do. Got it?" Andrea and Hunter agreed and they set out.

They'd only been walking for about twenty minutes when they came upon a medical supply store. It seemed that was the way sometimes in Peakesville, like it would provide for you just as long as you didn't leave. The door was unlocked and the lights clicked on with flip of the switch. It seemed so easy. Andrea and Hunter headed into the store together to find a wheelchair while Daryl watched the out the front window. He hoped Herschel would show up, preferring the older one that he knew but he would have accepted either of them at this point.

Unfortunately, the man who stumbled down the street was not Herschel. It was Merle heading in their direction. He was hard to miss as he belted out a verse from Lynyrd Skynyrd's _Sweet Home Alabama_. The lyrics being sung off-key easily penetrated through the front windows of the store.

"Sweet home Alabama! Where the skies are so blue! Sweet home Alabama! Lord, I'm comin' home to you!" he sang at the top of his lungs. He had a goofy grin on his face. It was obvious he had found his fix and now he was flying high as a kite.

"Merle!" Daryl growled between gritted teeth as he ran out of the store to his brother. "Shut the fuck up! There could be walkers round here!"

Merle giggled like Daryl was telling him a joke. "Lighten up, baby bro. Jus' havin' a little fun. Didntcha ya say ya went ta Alabama? Sing with me," he said as he broke into another verse. "In Birmingham they love the governor! Now we all did what-"

The line about loving the governor was enough to set Daryl off. He decked Merle in the face. He hadn't put his full strength into the blow but it was enough to knock the spit right out of his brother.

All of Merle's mirth dissolved into rage. "You little fucker!" he screamed as he lunged at Daryl, hitting him in the middle. The breath was knocked out of Daryl as he landed on the ground. He was able to get one punch to Merle's side before Merle slammed his fist into Daryl's head. His brother had not pulled his punch the way Daryl had and Daryl saw stars in front of his eyes.

"Hey!" shouted a woman's voice followed by the crash of a gunshot. Both men froze and looked up. Andrea stood there, her gun trained on Merle. "Get off him," she directed firmly, motioning with the gun. Merle, his eyes already looking more sober, climbed off of Daryl. "What the hell was that? You idiots trying to kill each other?"

"Nah, we were just havin' a little fun wrestlin'," Merle joked, patting his brother on the back in a friendly gesture as Daryl got to his feet.

Daryl didn't respond, just scowled. Then he glanced around, forgetting all about what had just happened. "Where's Hunter?"

Andrea looked back towards the store. "He was right by me when we heard you two outside. We found some wheelchairs in the back." Her words were meant to be reassuring but as she talked, a touch of panic entered her voice as she realized her mistake in leaving the boy behind. The three of them rushed back through the medical supply store's door.

"Hunter!" Daryl yelled for his son. Andrea held her breath, praying for a quick answer. She didn't get it. Daryl sprinted down the aisle to the back of the store, Andrea and Merle just behind him. "Hunter, answer me!" Daryl cried, panic now entering his own voice.

The store was empty and silent. Andrea pointed to the area with the wheelchairs. One of them had been freed from where it was stored, open and ready to be rolled away. There was no Hunter. The only thing out of place there was a hat lying on the floor.

Merle snatched it up, inspecting it closely. The color seemed to drain from his face. "This ain't possible," he whispered.

Daryl grabbed the hat out of his brother's hand. It was a blue trucker's hat, worn and dirty. _Sam's Trucking_ was written out in script along the front. Daryl felt his blood run cold. He would never forget this hat. It practically never left the head of his worst enemy, his torturer. He dropped it to the floor like the cloth had burned him.

Shaking his head, Daryl started saying a mantra of no over and over again. Andrea looked at both of them with wide eyes. "What is it?" she asked confused.

"I'm gonna kill him," Daryl stated firmly, pulling his crossbow over his shoulder. "He's got my boy and that motherfucker is gonna pay."

"Who?" Andrea asked, more confused than ever. She couldn't imagine any person eliciting such a reaction from the two brothers except for the Governor.

"Our dear departed daddy," Merle told her, his face grim and completely sober now.


	18. Chapter 18

Wow! I am overwhelmed by all your wonderful responses to this story! Thanks so much and I hope not to disappoint anyone as we head into the grand finale with 3 chapters left.

**Chapter 18**

The medical supply store was completely full of every kind of medical equipment a person could imagine. Andrea led the way down the center aisle, her gun out. Hunter followed behind her at a slower place, examining several medical items he'd never seen before. He glanced back at his dad, who was standing guard at the door and watching intently out the front windows.

"Hey, aren't these wheelchairs?" Hunter pointed out along the back wall of the store. The wheelchairs were folded up, wrapped in heavy plastic and stacked against each other.

Andrea had done a cursory sweep of the other aisles and found them empty. She'd been just about to go into the store room but headed in Hunter's direction instead. "Yep, one of these should be just what we need." Together, they began pulling the plastic off the first one in the pile.

Hunter sat down in it, looking like a tiny child on a huge, wheeled throne. His eyebrows drew together. "Seems kind of big for my mom, doesn't it?"

Andrea stuck her tongue partway out of the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, it kinda does." The tag was sticking out on the side and Andrea quickly read it. "Well, it's because this is an extra-wide version."

"Wow, I bet I could ride with mom on this thing!" Hunter said excitedly. Andrea could practically see the wheels turning in the boy's head.

"Not gonna happen, kid," Andrea told him as he climbed out of the large chair. "Here, check these tags on the others and find a smaller one. I'm going to grab some of those crutches over there."

Hunter frowned. "But my dad said he would rather her be in a wheelchair."

"Yeah, but your dad can be a little overprotective of your mom. And I have a feeling she would much rather be walking on a pair of crutches instead of having someone push her in a chair. I know I would. I'm going to bring both and let them fight it out." Andrea said as she traveled to the second aisle over and pulled a pair of crutches off the wall. Unwrapping the plastic, she measured them against herself. "These work pretty well. Plus, they are adjustable."

Hunter found a tag that reported the wheelchair attached to it was an ultra-light folding, standard size. That sounded pretty good to him. Unfortunately, it was buried under several of the extra-large ones. Before he could say anything to Andrea, they both heard the front door jingle open followed by angry shouts. There was no mistaking the voices of the Dixon brothers.

"What the hell are those two morons doing out there?" Andrea asked as she rolled her eyes and pulled out her gun again. It must have been a rhetorically question because she was running out of the store before Hunter could try to form an answer. He wondered briefly if he should be insulted that his dad and uncle were both just called morons, but from the sounds of it, they probably deserved it.

Figuring they would be back in the store within a few minutes, Hunter proceeded to dig the wheelchair he wanted out from the larger ones. He tugged and wrestled with it, not wanting to relent to the task of simply moving the larger ones out of the way. With a great pull using all his strength, the desired chair popped out away from the others. However, it also caused two of the larger ones to crash down to the floor with a great clattering noise.

"Yer makin' a pretty big ruckus there, boy," came an unfamiliar deep voice behind him.

Hunter whirled around. Standing in the doorway to the store room was one of the largest men he'd ever seen. In fact, he seemed to fill the entire doorway with his mass. Not that he was fat. He was as tall as Carl Grimes but much more muscular, like Uncle Merle. In fact, the more Hunter stared in amazement at this giant, the more the man looked like his Uncle Merle.

The gigantic man squinted down at Hunter, pushing his trucker's hat up away from his eyes. He took one lumbering step towards Hunter. His eyes wide, Hunter shifted backwards, putting the ultra-light wheelchair between them. The man stepped a little closer and Hunter contemplated dodging around him.

"Ya know, you look like ma kid. The bratty younger one whose always askin' fer an ass-kickin'," the giant growled at him. "Not exactly but close enough. What's yer name?"

Hunter had absolutely no desire to answer that question. Knowing what he did about this town, how it could bring forth any person from any time, he had a strong feeling about the man towering over him. This was most likely the man that haunted his father's nightmares. One that he was ashamed to admit had a genetic link to him. His grandfather. The subject of his existence had been kept so far away from him that Hunter did not even know his name.

Without another pause, Hunter reached around and pulled out the gun from his waistband. Yet, before he could even bring it around to point it at this hulking man, the man backhanded the weapon right out of Hunter's grip. The gun flew off harmlessly across the store, landing several aisles away.

Hunter could feel his heart racing, his breath coming in gulps. The man was almost on top of him. Using the only weapon he had left, Hunter shoved the wheelchair at him. The footrests hit the muscular calves hard enough to leave bruises and as the man doubled over, Hunter took off down the closest aisle toward the door.

He ran as fast as he could, his mouth opening to scream for his father. Before he could make a sound, a steal hand closed over his mouth. He was jerked violently backwards. Flailing his arms and leg, he tried desperately to fight off his attacker. Unfortunately, he was no match for the strength and size of his grandfather. All he managed to do was knock the hat off the man's head. A fist slammed into his face and the world went black for Hunter.

**XXXXXXXX**

Amelia peered around the corner, spying on the younger version of her father. He was fiddling with his crossbow, a very familiar sight to her. He shifted his weight on the sofa and Amelia slipped back unseen behind the wall. She rubbed absently at her arm, wondering if this plan of hers was going to get her in trouble.

She peeked back into the living room and stumbled back suddenly when her vision showed that Daryl had closed most of the distance between them. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he looked at her suspiciously. He'd moved silently, a talent her brother had mastered but she never had. It creeped her out a lot of the time.

"Ya spyin' on me?"

Her dad had a temper; everyone knew that. It was rarely directed at her but she remembered the one time she'd had to bear the full brunt of it. Last year, there had been a rumor going around about a flock of wild turkeys that had moved into the area. She and Judy Grimes came up with the great idea of sneaking out early in the morning and surprise everyone by bringing back one of the birds for dinner. However, the birds were not cooperative and they ended up tracking them further and further away from the compound. By the time her father had tracked the two of them down, it had been afternoon. He'd been so angry; she remembered how his hands had been clenching open and closed into fists. It frightened her, seeing this side of him. She'd been sure he was going to hit her but he never did. Instead, she'd lost hunting privileges for 2 months. It made her realize that her father would never hurt her, that he had just been afraid for her safety.

With that incident in mind, she wondered if this rough man that would one day be her father would ever hurt her. She took a deep breath, hoping not. "I, um… I just wanted to, ah..." She got a hold of herself then, stopped stuttering and squared her shoulders. "Can you cook?"

Daryl looked confused. His arms slid away from his chest. "Shouldn't ya know that answer already?" There was a little snark in his voice and Amelia relaxed a little.

"Well, I admit that I have never seen my dad cooking but I always figured it was because my mom was so good at it," she advised him.

Daryl snort. "I don't know shi-" He paused, censoring himself in front of the girl. "I don't know nothin' bout cooking."

"Darn," she breathed out, leaning against the wall disappointedly. "Cooking isn't my strong suit. Oh well, it was stupid idea anyway." She started to turn away to go back upstairs.

"You wanna cook somethin'?" he asked, apparently not ready to let the topic drop.

Amelia turned back around. "Mom's pretty upset. I think she thinks we're gonna get stuck in this town longer because of her ankle. I told her I'd get her breakfast but she said she's not hungry. But if we _make_ breakfast, then she's got to eat at least some of it," she explained.

Daryl shrugged. "Can make cereal."

Amelia frowned. "I'm not sure what that is. But I was thinking eggs and bacon with toast. I know she likes that when Maggie cooks it up. I already found all the ingredients in the kitchen. What could go wrong?"

Daryl knew plenty of things that could go wrong but he didn't feel like he could say no to the kid. Figuring it was a bad idea, he agreed to help and the two of them journeyed into the kitchen.

It didn't take very long for Daryl to realize just what a disaster cooking breakfast could become. This was why he never attempted it. He ate cereal or grabbed something out. At the quarry, the women did all the cooking. Apparently, that trend never changed as he watched Amelia fumble around.

"I really need to start learning how to cook," she muttered as she tended the sizzling bacon in the pan. There was a popping sound and little grease droplets singed her arm. "Shit!" she cried, throwing the lid back over the pan. She glanced over at him, looking hopeful that he wouldn't call her on the cursing.

Daryl couldn't help but crack a smile. The Dixon mouth was genetic. He, on the other hand, was having his own difficulties with the eggs. The outside looked like it was blackening but the middle seemed runny. He tried stirring it around the pan but still didn't seem right. Maybe he could fix them by putting them in the microwave, he considered.

"You smell something burning?" Daryl asked, figuring it was coming from her popping pan of bacon.

"Oh no! I forgot about the toast!" she yelled as she scrabbled across the kitchen. Sure enough, the toaster oven was on fire. She'd accidentally set it to the darkest setting, which was too much for the flimsy pieces of white bread. Smoke was pouring out of it.

As if on cue, the smoke alarm went off. The piercing beeps were like nothing Amelia had ever heard before and she froze, her hands going over her ears in pain.

Realizing she didn't know what to do, Daryl took matters into his own hands. Springing into action, he switched off the stove, shoved the two pans off the hot burners, unplugged the smoking toaster over and grabbed a dish towel to wave the smoke away from the alarm box in the next room. Amelia then seemed to recover from the shock of the noise and helped him with another towel to clear the smoke away. It only took a minute for the alarm to stop.

"You think mom heard that?" she asked nervously.

"Oh, she definitely heard that," came a voice from the doorway. Carol stood there, barefoot and holding up her injured ankle since she had hopped down the stairs the second she smelled something burning. Carol's expression went from disgruntled to incredulousness as she looked at the destruction in the kitchen. "What the hell happened here?"

Amelia looked miserable. "We were trying to cook you breakfast," she explained in a small voice. Carol snorted, her eyes going to Daryl. He was trying not to laugh at the entire situation.

"More like trying to burn the place down," she mumbled.

"Ya know, you ain't supposed ta be outta bed walkin' around," Daryl pointed out. In a quick stride, he scooped her up in his arms. She huffed a little but didn't resist, seemingly resigned in her fate to be carried back upstairs.

Before he left, Amelia spoke up again and Daryl turned with Carol in his grasp. "I'm sorry, mama. Maybe I should learn how to cook."

Carol chuckled at that. "Finally! I've been trying to get you in the kitchen for years, young lady. But now is not the time. Now is the time for you to clean this mess up. I know you know how to do dishes and scrub floors." With that, Daryl carried her back to the bedroom.

"Daryl, we both know you have no idea how to cook beyond roasting over a fire. What made you think that would be a good idea?" Carol asked with a smile on her face.

Daryl shrugged as he laid her gently down. "Thought maybe some of her mama's talent in the kitchen rubbed off on her."

Carol laughed and shook her head. "Oh no. She's a daddy's girl all the way. Could never get her interested in the cooking side of things. Now, Hunter can whip up a decent omelets though." She shifted on the bed, trying to reach the pillow that had fallen down. "Can you help me?" she asked, not able to grab it.

Reaching down, he hauled the pillow up and slipped it behind her as she sat up for him. Daryl then realized just how close they were to each other as her warm breath tickled over his face. Thoughts of the night before raced through his brain and he didn't move away.

He kissed her instead.

It was a clumsy kiss and he felt her tense up. He was about to just bolt out of the room for being such an idiot when she actually leaned into him. Her arms twisted around his neck, her fingers running through his hair. She tasted incredible to him as her lips parted to grant him greater access. As her lips moved across his, his hands reached out for her, pulling her closer to him.

Just as fast as it started, it ended. Carol tensed up again and the same hands that had felt so good on his scalp were pushing him away.

"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly, not meeting his eyes. "I know you're the same man, but I can't help but feeling like this is cheating on him."

Daryl nodded. As much as he wanted her, he was almost proud of her for stopping him. It was obvious that she loved him and was loyal to him. He hated that he wasn't the version she was with but he accepted it.

Before he left, he turned back to her. "I…I'm sorry bout how I acted back at the quarry," he stammered out. Carol gave him a quizzical look so he continued in a rush before he lost his nerve. "I saw yer asshole husband beatin' on ya and I walked away. I'm sorry fer that."

Carol giggled. "Daryl, that was like a million years ago for me."

Daryl, still ashamed of himself, answered. "It was 3 days ago fer me. If I ever get back there, gonna put my fist through his face if I see him touch ya again."

She gave him a dazzling smile. "Thank you. Hopefully you won't have to worry about Ed for much longer after you get home."

Backing out the room, trying not to run, he told he was going to check on Amelia's progress in the kitchen. She nodded and lay back down, covering her eyes with her hand.

He was almost back to the kitchen when the front door slammed open. Andrea, Merle and his older self came bounding inside. They all looked frantic. Merle and Daryl ran out to the balcony while Andrea went to the bag of guns. She had a pair of crutches that she threw on the floor haphazardly.

"What the fuck?" Daryl spat out, confused by their reaction. Weren't the crutches what they had gone to get? Then he realized someone was missing. "Where's Hunter?" he demanded, standing over Andrea as she pulled out a rifle and began loading it.

"He was taken," she said, snapping the bullets into place.

"Taken? By who?" Daryl demanded.

Andrea stood up and shoved the rifle in his hands. "By your father. He left his calling card behind." From her bag, she pulled out the old trucker's hat. Daryl was speechless as he stared at the familiar item. A wave of fear washed through him for the boy.


	19. Chapter 19

Please do not hate me for the end of this chapter! I promise I will be posting the conclusion (our last chapter for this story!) tomorrow.

**Chapter 19**

Hunter regained consciousness in utter darkness. For just a moment, he thought he was back in the house he'd spent his entire life in, tucked safely in his bed. Then the memories of everything that had happened since leaving that house came rushing back. The giant man who caught him alone in the store, who may be his long-dead grandfather, had grabbed him before Hunter could get to his father. That was the last thing he remembered before the black.

Hunter tried to move his head and it made the whole left side ache. His left eye felt funny and he was fairly sure it was swollen. Yet, it helped him determine that it wasn't the room that was dark. He was blindfolded. Furthermore, his arms were stretched painfully behind his back, his hands tied together. Even his ankles were tied together.

The worst thing he discovered as his fuzzy mind became more and more aware of his predicament was that he was gagged. The thick cloth was shoved between his teeth, hurting his jaw from being forced open like that. It tasted bad too, like it hadn't ever been washed. He tried using his tongue to push it out of his mouth but it didn't budge.

Panic began to grip him. He tried prying the ropes off his wrists but they wouldn't move. Droplets of sweat ran down his forehead and he started breathing faster. He'd never been trapped like this, not ever. Bile was rising up in his throat, threatening to choke him. No, he needed to calm down because if he puked, he'd choke to death with the gag in his mouth. Deliberately, he slowed his breathing, drawing in great breaths in and out of his nose. It took a few minutes but gradually the nauseous feeling receded.

He knew he had to do something, to get out of there before his psychopathic grandfather did something worse than tying him up. With the goal of escape in mind, Hunter tried swinging his legs around to move forward in the room. Maybe he could find a door or something. His body moved a few inches. He did it again and got the same reward. Encouraged, he continued it, feeling like he was actually getting somewhere.

That was when his head collided with some piece of hard furniture sitting in his path. Blinding pain exploded across his face where he'd been punched and he could not stop from crying out. The sound was muffled by his gag and he only whimpered a few times more as the feeling of daggers stabbing his face subsided.

One good thing did come out of his suffering: the blindfold was pulled partially off. His good eye, the right one, was uncovered and he could see again. Gritting his teeth against the stabbing pain in his head, he shook his head. The blindfold came fully loose off his face and dropped down to hang around his neck.

Sunlight shone down through the windows in front of him, illuminating the room around him. It appeared to be some kind of store room. He'd hit his head on a worn metal filing cabinet. With his sight back, he was able to pull himself into a sitting position.

A loud noise echoed through the room from nearby and Hunter jumped. The giant could come for him at any moment. The feeling of helplessness began to return as he pulled carelessly at his unrelenting bonds. The ropes were abrading his wrists, making him bleed, but he didn't care. He had to escape.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he hated himself for crying like a little baby. His dad wouldn't cry. No, his dad would probably have already gotten out of this and kicked his father's ass. No, his dad would never have let himself be taken in the first place. Hunter felt like a stupid idiot for letting that happen, for not getting away from the crazy giant. These thoughts made his crying worse, the room blurring in a flood of tears.

"Don't cry," came a quiet voice. It came from just behind him.

Hunter startled, whipping his head around. He was sure the psycho would be there but he wasn't. It was just a little girl, about the same age as him. He stared at her with wide eyes as she climbed out from under an old metal desk and knelt down in front of him. The moment was surreal as she pulled the gag out of his mouth and then wiped his tears away with her fingers.

There was no way he couldn't know who this was in front of him. With her blue eyes, light blond hair and serious manner, it must have been her. His sister had seen her so it had already been established that she was in town.

Sophia. His other sister.

"You have the same eyes as my mom," she commented softly as she laid her hand gently across the bruise covering one side of his face.

Hunter winced a little but the coolness of her hand actually seemed to be helping with the throbbing. "You do too."

Sophia's hand slipped away from his injury and Hunter instantly missed the comfort of it. "So did that girl in the sports store." She began working at the knots holding his hands behind his back. "I thought she was a ghost because she looked so familiar but I didn't know her. Do you know her?"

"She's my sister, Amelia. My name's Hunter. We're twins," Hunter reported. He felt one of the knots come undone and the ropes loosen. She set to working on the other one, which opened in her hand a minute later. It felt so good for the ropes to come off his sore wrists.

"Is Carol your mother?" Sophia asked abruptly. Her expression seemed convinced that she already knew the answer but needed to hear it out loud. Hunter paused, his hands held over the ties at his ankles. Slowly, he nodded affirmatively. She drew in a quick breath and then threw her arms around him in a massive hug. Hunter was almost knocked back to the floor but he clung onto her and managed to stay upright.

"I don't understand this place but it can't be all bad if I got to meet you, Sophia," Hunter told her, tearing up again.

Sophia pulled back from him. "You don't know me, do you? Even though you're my brother, you've never met me?"

Hunter answered in a whisper, his eyes darting away. "No."

Her eyes glazed over in deep thought. "I was running from the walkers. I'd gotten lost in the woods. That was when I stepped into this town. I saw my dad, who's dead, but he was alive and yelling at me here. He looked younger, like he did when I was just going into school." Sophia's eyes became sharp again, looking directly into Hunter's. "I never got away from those walkers." It was a statement of fact, not a question.

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Hunter hated saying the words. "No, you didn't," he whispered again.

Sophia then nodded her head firmly, like she fully accepted the reality of her life and that none of this was going to be adequately explained to her.

A loud crashing noise came from just behind the far wall of the store room. Both children jumped, realizing that the huge angry man could come back any second. The two of them clawed at the ropes at Hunter's feet as more noises confirmed his presence. After what felt like an eternity, the ropes fell away and Hunter leapt up with Sophia.

Hand in hand, they ran down a dimly lit hallway, hoping to find a path to the outside. As they crashed through a side door, they could just hear the angry roar of the giant behind them as he discovered his prize was gone.

**XXXXXXX**

The entire group was geared up to the max. Each of them had guns and knives along with various other weapons they favored. Even Carol on crutches had her machete strapped to her belt and a rifle slung across her back. They were quickly gathering at the front door but the older Daryl was pacing back and forth impatiently. Carol was pale, holding protectively onto Amelia as they waited on the stairs.

Nobody was being left behind. After Hunter's abduction, they couldn't risk anyone else getting lost. They were to stick to the group like glue except in the most dire emergency, like walkers. Just in case Hunter came back to the apartment, a large sign had been hung just inside the door.

_Hunter_

_Stay here!_

_We will be back tonight._

They traveled down to the street, moving like one unit. The plans had all been discussed so no talking was needed. They were alert and silent as they made their way to the medical supply store where Hunter had been taken. When they arrived, the two Daryl's tried to put their tracking skills to work. Unfortunately, the trail went cold about a block away, just outside an office building. They searched the place from top to bottom, all the time staying together, but it was empty.

Carol might have felt bad for slowing them down being that she was on crutches because of her ankle. However, all she felt was numb. Her son had been taken by a monster. Daryl never really opened up about his father and his traumatic childhood other than to curse the man whenever he was brought up. But his scars told the whole dreadful story and now their son was at this man's mercy. This was how she felt after Sophia ran off into the forest, pursued by walkers. Could she bear losing another child to violence?

She came out of her thoughts as the group stopped walking. Daryl, her Daryl, was in the front, his hand up to still them. His head was tilted like he heard something. All of them gripped their weapons, tense and ready for action.

A sound came from one of the alleys near them, like a trash can falling over. They all shifted in that direction, guns aimed. Footsteps could be heard. Fingers were poised over the triggers. Amelia had her bow drawn tight.

Hunter burst out of the alley, another figure following close behind. He did even pause at the sight of his entire group aiming weapons at him. "He's behind us!" Hunter screamed as he ran straight for them, practically dragging the other figure behind him.

Carol felt her heart soar at seeing her son again. It hurt seeing half his face deeply bruised and his one eye swollen shut but he was okay. He was alive. Then her eyes shifted and she saw the girl he was with. Could it be?

"Sophia?" she choked out. Her legs gave way and she went down to her knees on the ground. The little blond girl ran right into her arms.

"Mama!"

Carol clutched at her, the daughter she had lost all those years ago. She wasn't like the last time she'd seen her. Her eyes were clear, her skin bright. She wasn't a walker. She was alive. Carol was sobbing, not caring what else was going around her.

That was until the gun shots rang out all around them. It snapped her back to reality.

"That fucker's got a machine gun!" Merle yelled, firing back in the direction of the onslaught. "We gotta get some cover!"

"Here!" Andrea yelled, pulling the door to the empty office building back open. They crowded through the door, trying to duck the bullets flying at them. The younger Daryl was trying to provide cover but the madman that was his father kept coming.

Without any regard for his own safety, the elder Dixon walked in a straight line towards the office building, pausing the shooting. Carol pulled Hunter and Sophia behind a receptionist area, looking desperately for Amelia. The younger Daryl and Merle were busy reloading near the front while the older Daryl tried to get a clear shot from behind a guard station. The figure behind the broad open window approached them.

"Hey Daryl!" yelled his father. The man sounded happy, like he was just where he wanted to be, taunting his son. Both Daryls froze as he continued. "Met yer boy. Tried ta pull a gun on me but the little pussy couldn't quite hold on ta it. I was just tryin' ta teach him ta be a real man, like I always was tryin' ta teach you and yer no-good brother. No hard feelings, right?" he shouted as he held the assault weapon up in the air.

Merle, who remembered a time of closeness with his father that his brother never shared, started to stand up. Just that little movement was enough to prompt his father into bringing the machine gun back down. The windows exploded inwards as the glass was riddled by a continuous spray of bullets. Everyone went flat on the ground, covering their heads and squeezing their eyes shut.

As if he had a pair of balls made of steel, the psychotic Dixon father stepped through the now broken front door. His feet crunched on the glass as he strolled casually over to his two sons lying on the floor. His gun was pointed menacingly at their backs.

"Git up," he ordered them. They had no choice but to comply, holding their hands up and away from their own weapons. Without moving the machine gun off them, the giant man suddenly pulled a small handgun from his belt and aimed it directly at the older Daryl, who was trying to sneak around the guard station to take his father out.

"Fuck! There's two a you?" the man cursed, his head going from one Daryl towards the other. "Two pieces of trash in ma way," he grumbled.

Carol reached for her gun, not being able to see anything from behind the receptionist counter but knowing that she wasn't just going to let that madman shot her husband. Ever so slowly, she raised herself up to peer just over the top. She observed the elder Dixon holding guns on both Daryls, who were at a standstill. Movement on the other side of the room caught her eye and her stomach clenched painfully. Amelia was positioned by the elevator bay, bringing her readied bow up.

Andrea was crouched at the far end of the receptionist counter, closest to Amelia. Unfortunately, before Carol could motion her or even say a word of warning to her brazen daughter, Amelia let lose her arrow. Everything seemed to go into slow motion, moving at such a sluggish pace to her even though it was incredibly fast.

Amelia's arrow struck the huge man in his beefy neck, penetrating through muscle, arteries and veins. A great gush of blood sprayed out. His one hand dropped the smaller pistol, reaching up to where the arrow was sticking out of him. He was spinning in her direction, the machine gun headed right towards her. With her lightening speed, Amelia released a second arrow, which hit directly through the heart. The madman's life ended in that moment.

Carol ran towards her daughter, yelling incomprehensibly with fear. She didn't even acknowledge her injured ankle, feeling no pain as adrenalin coursed through her body. As the Dixon father entered the throes of death, his hand unconsciously clenched around the trigger of the weapon. A spray of bullets crashed through the walls behind Carol as she dove towards Amelia. She pulled the girl to the floor just as the hailstorm of bullets reached them.

Everything went silent as their enemy, the Dixon brother's abuser for so many years, fell into a lump on the floor. Hunter and Sophia, holding desperately onto each other, stood up and looked at the carnage in front of them. With Merle and both Daryls watching, their father's body began to shift. It crumbled into a pile of dust and then disappeared completely.

"Asshole," Merle muttered, spitting on the floor where the body had been.

"Daryl!" Andrea's frantic voice reached all of them at once. The older Daryl was by her side in a flash with the younger one and his brother behind him. He gasped when he saw her.

Andrea had pulled Carol off of Amelia and was holding her hands over Carol's abdomen. Blood was seeping through her fingers and starting to pool on the floor. Carol was getting so pale. She coughed and a trickle of blood ran out of the corner of her mouth.

"Shit, shit, shit," Daryl growled as he ripped the rag out of his back pocket and pressed it around Carol's wound along with Andrea's hands.

"Where's Amelia? Is she okay?" Carol demanded, already sounding weak.

"I'm here, mama. I'm okay," Amelia told her, her voice breaking as she watched the blood pouring out of her mother.

"Sophia? Hunter?" Carol asked for them. Hunter took her hand, silently crying. Sophia touched her mother's face gently, just as she had done for Hunter earlier.

"Hi, mama," she said sweetly. "I didn't get a chance to tell you that I met my brother and sister. I like them a lot." Carol couldn't help smiling at that, coldness invading her limbs. Sophia continued, "I love you mama and I just want you to know that you were the best mama a kid like me could have. I know I'll see you again someday."

Carol started coughing again, more blood coming out of her mouth.

"No," Daryl cried hysterically. "We gotta find Herschel!" he yelled at them as he hefted Carol up in his arms and ran for the door. The rest of them were right on his heels as they exited the building.

"Oh my God!" shouted Andrea. "Look!" she pointed. There, not even two hundred yards away, was a huge sign.

_Now Leaving Peakesville, Ohio_

_Hope you had an eventful stay!_

Daryl looked down at the love of his life, bleeding to death in his arms. He had this sudden inspiration that if he could just get her out of this god-forsaken town, she would be alright. It would be like the bullet wound never happened. He began running with all the speed he had, outpacing all the rest of them.

About halfway there, Carol began choking on her own blood. He had to slow down to shift her, helping to clear her airway.

"Daryl, I'm not going to make it. I love you so much. Please believe that. I need you take care of the children. Promise me," she pleaded with his through gurgling breath.

Daryl shook his head, driving himself on harder. He was going to make it, he had too.

Carol whimpered and died in his arms about 30 feet from the town line. As Daryl ran, he could feel her body disintegrating in his arms until he was clutching at nothing. He screamed in sheer and utter horror and pain, falling down to the ground. She was gone. Nothing else mattered now. He was alone.

The others reached him. The children were all crying, being herded along by Andrea. Daryl just wanted to street to open up and take him too. But then there he was, his other self, yelling in his face.

"Don't stop! She ain't dead! Ya hear me? She's still out there!" he jabbed his finger towards the sign. "I swear ya get yer ass across that line, it's gonna all go back to the way it was."

Daryl wondered if his younger self could be right. He felt so drained, like he couldn't really move. His mind went back to Carol, just dust now. He cried, his hands covering his face.

"Get the fuck up! Merle, help me!"

Daryl felt his whole body lifted off the ground and the two men dragged him onwards. Together, they all crossed the line out of the Twilight Zone.


	20. Chapter 20

Here it is, the conclusion! I hope it isn't disappointing. There will be a real author's note at the end. See you on the other side!

Chapter 20

"What the hell was that?" Daryl questioned.

"I have no idea," Carol answered, standing beside him.

Daryl glanced around. Amelia was on his other side, squinting up at the sunlight. Her hand was clenched, like she was holding onto her bow but she had no bow. It had been forgotten back at the compound. Hunter was at Carol's side, absently rubbing his face with one hand as he slipped his other hand into his mother's. Up ahead of them was the car, sitting on the side of the road with all four doors standing wide open.

"When did we get out of the car?" Amelia asked. None of them could give her an adequate answer. They had eaten lunch at the rest stop and then had been traveling on through Tennessee. When had they stopped again?

Daryl shrugged off the feeling that he was forgetting something. "Let's load up and get movin'. I wanna meet up with the group before dark." The kids complied, climbing into the backseat. Carol moved to get into the front seat, wincing sharply as she sat down. "Ya okay?" Daryl asked concerned.

"Yeah, just a cramp," she said, clutching her abdomen for a moment. "It's gone now," she reported, giving Daryl a reassuring smile. He still looked suspicious that she might be lying so she gave him a little peck on the cheek. "Let's get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps and I have no idea why."

They drove for a while, seeing several signs that they were following Rte 322. It was the road they needed to be on to take them through the bulk of Tennessee to their goal. The kids feel asleep in the back, not sure why they were so tired but feeling thoroughly drained. Even Carol looked like she was on the verge of taking a nap. Daryl frowned, a particular memory popping up in his mind.

"Hey," he said quietly, nudging Carol a little. She yawned and looked at him expectantly. He continued, his tone somewhat confused. "Did I ever hit Ed?"

Now Carol frowned. "No, I don't think so. That was Shane who hit him. Right?"

"It's the weirdest thing. I remember seein' the asshole hittin' ya back at the quarry and Merle not lettin' me help ya. I walked away. But now I also remember kicking his ass. It just popped inta ma head. Did that happen?" Daryl asked, perplexed.

Carol pondered that, thinking back so many years. Ed had beaten her so many times that a lot of the incidents just ran together. But then it was there; the memory of Daryl striding angrily out of the woods and defending her. She shook her head a little, unsure where it came from. "Um, yeah. I think that did happen. Strange because I am only just remembering it."

Daryl took his one hand off the wheel and squeezed her hand. "Well, asshole deserved it."

"My knight in shining armor." Carol giggled as his face turned pink.

XXXXXXXX

The forest was alive all around them. The birds were singing, the sun was shining and even a squirrel had ventured into their vicinity. Daryl and Merle just stood there, blinking away the cobwebs in their brains. Both of them knew that something very significant had happened but neither of them could remember what it was. Neither of them wanted to look like an idiot in front of his brother by saying something about it either.

Daryl turned around, feeling like there were supposed to be people with them. He couldn't remember who but it was obvious that they were alone. Merle rubbed his face and checked the stash in his pocket. Still there, right where he left it.

"Come on, we'd better be gettin' back ta camp," Merle told him, his voice subdued. Daryl nodded but didn't answer. He walked ahead of his brother through the woods.

What they didn't know was that Peakesville had given them a gift, the gift of time. It was only a few minutes but it was enough to change one tiny event in history. As the two men came to the edge of camp, they froze at the sound of an angry, deep voice.

"You think you can talk to me like that?"

Daryl recognized the voice as Ed Peletier. He crept forward, shielding his presence behind a broad tree trunk. The man had his wife trapped in front of him, behind their tent where nobody was likely to spot them.

"No. Lori wanted me to finish with the kids' lessons. I swear I was going to get your lunch ready right after that," she pleaded with him.

"You think that whiny bitch takes precedence over me?" he said as he took a step closer to her. Merle now stood right behind Daryl, watching them intently.

"Of course not! I promise it won't ever happen again," she cried.

"Damn right it won't," Ed muttered, looking like he was going to let her off the hook. He turned as if he was going to walk away and Carol was holding her breath, looking like she was hoping this would be the end of the confrontation.

Daryl had the strangest sense of déjà vu, convinced that he had watched this scene before. He knew what was coming next but he still stood frozen to the spot.

Ed spun back to Carol and backhanded her across the face. Carol's head whipped around, a tiny strangled cry coming from her. Daryl's fingers dug into the bark of the tree, wanting to put a stop to all this. He held back though, warring with himself to not get involved.

Ed wrapped his fingers around her arm and there was no way that his tight grip wouldn't cause bruises. He jerked Carol's body up so that his face was directly in hers.

"You belong to me!" he screamed at her, little bits of spittle spraying out of his fat lips. She just closed her eyes, like she was trying to block him out so he shook her. Her head whipped back on her neck painfully. "And don't you even think about leaving me, you bitch. If you dare take Sophia and try to run, I will hunt you down like the animal you are. I will skin you alive and then it'll just be me and my little Sophia."

Rage welled up in Daryl, more than he should have felt as an incidental bystander. For just the briefest instant, he remembered everything. The forgotten town, kissing Carol, the twins he would father with her. Everything. Then it was gone in a blink, only the rage remaining.

Merle had no chance to stop his brother from interfering this time. Despite Merle not wanting to get any further involved with these people, he also felt this pull towards the woman being assaulted in front of him.

"Hey, asshole!" Daryl shouted just before he reached them. He was marching towards them rapidly, noticeably pissed off.

Ed's expression went from sudden shock to one of fear as the redneck closed in on him. He dropped Carol's arm and backed off a few steps. "You…you should mind your own business!" Ed stammered out.

"Heard what ya said. You are one sick bastard," Daryl pressed forward.

Ed fumbled with the gun in his waistband. "You better get out of here, redneck. I-I can do whatever I want with those that belong to me," he said as he continued to back away.

"Ain't gonna happen," Daryl growled, smacking the pistol out of Ed's shaking hands. Then Daryl punched Ed hard in the gut. It felt better than it should have to him.

Ed went down on his knees, plenty able to deal out punishment but hardly able to take it. Carol watched, tears streaming down her face and her hand covering her mouth. Daryl shoved Ed down into the dirt. Then he turned to Carol.

"He threaten ya or yer little girl again,ya tell me and I'll make sure he never touches ya again," Daryl told her in the gentlest voice he could muster.

Carol stared at him with wide eyes, not moving the hand from her mouth. The two of them looked into each other's eyes. Then she blinked and looked away. With her eyes on her fallen husband, she nodded her head slowly. It was all the thanks she could give him at that moment but it was enough to spark something between them that would grow into so much more.

The End

There ya go! Nothing in Peakesville was supposed to make any difference in the real world. It was more like a dream for the players. However, it gave young Daryl just the tiniest bit of extra time and remembrance to kick Ed's ass at the end and start the process of bringing them together just a little sooner.

Thanks so much to all my readers, followers, favoriters and reviewers! I love all of you! I especially have to thank my beta readers HGRHfan35, Haitus80 and mama2elves! You ladies are awesome and I appreciate your time to make this story better.

Sadly, this was the last well-developed idea I had for a story. I might do some one shots on this show or others as the fancy strikes but nothing set now. But at least I will finally get to catch up on all the stories I have been neglecting and focus on the baby that's coming. Again, thanks for reading this crazy story and I love you all!


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